For Darker Days
by SJKDarling
Summary: COMPANION PIECE(S) - Oliver-centric oneshots directly related to my other story, For Blue Skies. Written mostly to hit you right in the feels. (Hopefully.) T for language, eventual Olicity.
1. Some Days All I Do Is Watch The Sky

**A/N: Here it is! An Oliver-centric POV type thing of him finding out the horrible no good very bad news. If you haven't read For Blue Skies, I'd suggest doing that first, but if you like to be confused, you can go ahead and read this alone. I'm not the boss of you. Reminder: Dosimeters record radiation activity. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or anything of the sort.**

**OCCURS: MID CHAPTER 9, RADIOACTIVE (For Blue Skies)**

* * *

"Guys, I have something _really_ important to tell you."

"This oughtta be good," Dig muttered next to him, sharing a small smile.

Roy was running down the stairs, choosing to leap over the railing before he got to the end, landing in front of Oliver and Dig with practiced grace.

"If you got my sister pregnant, I will give you a five second head start."

"What? No, this doesn't have anything to do with her. This has to do with Felicity."

Suddenly Oliver was all ears - he hadn't really thought he would be rushing to tell him something about Thea anyways - but the idea that something was wrong with Felicity made his heart speed up just a fraction.

"What's wrong with Felicity?" His voice was deadly serious.

"I just saw her at the hospital-" Oliver went to grab his coat, but Roy's hand on his chest stopped him. "No, dude, she's fine. Perfectly healthy. Kind of."

"Explain." Dig ordered.

"She said that she fell outside of QC and was just there as a precaution. Seriously, she looked completely healthy and was waiting to be released." Oliver rolled his eyes at the kid. That sounded just like Felicity, and while he wished she had gotten him, it didn't seem to be as dire as Roy was making it out be. "No, that's not the weird part! The weird part is _this_."

He held out a small card, about the size of a credit card but a few millimeters thicker. Oliver flipped it over in his hand before handing it back to Roy.

"What is that?"

"Well, I took it out of the case to make sure it was working, but it's a personal dosimeter! And it is completely black!"

"What are you doing with a personal dosimeter?"

"I had to get one of my own, ever since you wouldn't let me borrow one from the lair."

"You mean ever since you _broke_ two of mine in the lair," Oliver pointed out. He made to turn away and get back to his arrows when Roy's voice returned, sounding close to frantic.

"You're not listening! Black is _bad_. Black means radioactive activity. _Notable_ radioactive activity."

"So?" Oliver knew there was background radiation happening at all times, so he wasn't too concerned. Not to mention he wouldn't put it past Roy to put the thing in a microwave just to see what happened.

"It turned black after I hugged Felicity! Like, seriously, _right after I hugged her._"

Oliver turned around slowly. "You're trying to tell me that you think Felicity is radioactive?"

He wanted to smile but the scared look on Roy's face held him back. The kid was actually concerned for her, which tamped down his urge to correct him.

"Yes! There's something going on with her, definitely. First, she was acting all crazy last week, and now she's setting off my badge thing? You can't tell me you think that's a coincidence. Not to mention that she _really _didn't want me to tell you that she was at the hospital."

Oliver didn't believe in coincidences, but he also didn't believe in radioactive women just casually wandering around Starling City.

"Where did you get that thing, kid?" Dig asked, still looking nonplussed by Felicity's desk. "Walmart? How reliable is it, anyways?"

"I'm telling you, this thing doesn't lie!" Oliver had to swallow back his instinct to protect his personal space when Roy crowded him. He was no longer impressed with the kid's ability to care about Felicity and was getting annoyed with the challenging tone in his voice.

"It's broken then."

"It's not broken! It works perfectly fine. Or at least, it did. It's a one-time use sort of thing, so I'll have to get another one." Dig huffed out at that; his Walmart suspicions were all but confirmed.

"What's going on?" Felicity stood a few steps from the bottom, taking in the situation around her. Oliver felt his body relax minutely. He had heard the door open a few moments ago and assumed Felicity was just trying to take her time to make sure she wasn't walking into World War 3, but he was still glad to see her. Roy's paranoia was wearing thin on him.

"Felicity," he greeted, before glaring at Roy. "See, it would've gone off," he told him, referring to the dosimeter that he had placed at the entrance to the lair at the top of the stairs. "Assuming you didn't break that one, too."

"Not if she didn't get close enough to it, man."

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to center himself. Roy was a good kid, he reminded himself. He cared about Felicity. And the radiation levels of Starling City, for some ridiculous reason. He was not _trying _to be this obnoxious.

"What are you two talking about?" Felicity took the remaining steps down the stairs. When Oliver noticed Roy stepping back as she approached, his frustration got the best of him.

"Roy has lost his mind, apparently."

He listened to Roy explain the badge dosimeter to Felicity, who looked sufficiently put out when she found out it didn't have a microchip, and therefore unable to be hacked. It was one of her more adorable traits. He paced away towards Dig, hoping to see the same skepticism mirrored on his face, but he only had eyes for Felicity.

"Felicity, you don't look surprised by this."

_That_ got Oliver's attention. Dig was right. There was none of the trademark confusion in her eyes that he had grown accustomed to seeing when someone was talking about anything that she didn't have direct experience with. Instead, there was just a little bit of _fear_. Could Roy have been right?

"Felicity, if you were exposed to high levels of radiation, we need to know!"

She stammered out a few replies, but the look of fear in her eyes didn't lessen. She was hiding something from him.

He dragged out her name, urging her to respond.

"Oh, boy."

His stomach dropped.

* * *

He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't handle that look in her eyes any longer. She was so damn scared. He closed the distance between them, hands on her shoulders just like he knew she liked. She always sagged underneath his hands, as if they alone had the ability to make her forget about everything bad in her life. It was moments like that that made him feel like he was a better man. He might not be able to be the best son, or the best brother, or the best vigilante, but he could do this. He could help _her_. Which was why he knew it wasn't going to be good when she tightened up underneath his hands. The fear in her eyes grew, and he had to swallow down something acidic that had climbed up his throat.

"Felicity, what is going on?"

She didn't respond. He couldn't even make sense of whatever Roy was saying, but the more he spoke, the more that gnawing feeling in his stomach grew even more intense. He was barely aware of yelling at the kid, but he was acutely aware of Felicity jumping at the tone in his voice, squeezing her hands together. Then she started to talk, and his mind started to spin.

He forced himself to take a few steps back, to separate himself from her, and to separate his mind from his emotions. She was going to tell him something, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wasn't going to like it.

He watched her fumble for words, and for the first time he didn't find her inability to communicate eloquently endearing. He was actually frustrated with her lack of command of the English language. He wanted to tell her to just spit the damn words out, to tell him what was wrong and have him overreact to it so that they could all just move on with their lives.

"You're sick."

Dig. Diggle. His bodyguard. He tried to get him to meet his eyes, but he remained focused on Felicity. How did Diggle get that from...from anything? What was he talking about? Was it some kind of joke? When he heard him cut off Felicity's - her what? Her rebuttal? Her lies? He realized that Dig had to be right. He had never heard him take that tone with Felicity, not ever. And he had never once accused her of treating anyone like an idiot, least of all him.

"Is he right? Are you sick?"

He had to ask the questions, but he already knew the answer. Knew it the second the accusation came out of Diggle's mouth. He had thought he had been prepared, but when she confirmed - he hadn't been prepared for that at all. He tried to look down, but the floor was swimming, and he was forced to keep his eyes locked on Felicity's.

"Sick with what? Sick with what, Felicity? Are you still sick from last month? What the hell is going on?" His heart was racing, beating wildly against his ribs like a caged animal desperate to get free. He knew that if he were to look down, his hands would be trembling too. He hadn't felt this way in a long, long time. This complete lack of control. This unchecked adrenaline coursing through him.

And then she whispered it.

He almost laughed it was so absurd. Cancer. Felicity _couldn't_ have cancer. She was Felicity. She was perfectly healthy. She was perfect. She was. She wasn't sick. And then she tried to - she tried to _elaborate_ on this cruel joke. Lymphoma? He didn't even know what that was, but it sounded bad. It sounded impossible. It was impossible. Felicity wasn't sick.

But a tiny voice in his head argued that maybe she was. Maybe this explained a lot in the last few months. Months. He looked at the woman in front of him, who looked so tired and small suddenly, so unsure of herself, which was not the Felicity Smoak he knew at all. He needed to know how long she had known this. How long had she been keeping this from him.

He didn't know what he expected, but it was _not_ for her pink lips to part ever so slightly, and for her to just breathe out the response that would tear him apart: a month.

He wasn't aware of anything except the thrumming of blood in his veins and a dull throb in his wrist when he looked over and saw all of her monitors on the floor. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel bad. If anything, it felt _good_. She deserved to know what it felt like when something you have no control over just gets ruined.

The pieces were falling into place faster than he could move his mouth, but he knew that he hit the nail on the head when he brought up Lance. Detective Lance. That son of a bitch had known this entire time and didn't even bother to warn Oliver, as himself _or_ as the Arrow.

He had seen them entering the hospital a few weeks ago. He had _seen_ them. But he knew that Lance had been suffering from some heart problems for years now. He had just assumed...assumed that Felicity was there to support him, not the other way around. He had trusted her and she had not only lied, but brought other people into the lies as well. Her mother. Detective Lance. Whoever else she deemed fit enough to be told, aside from him.

He was gone before he knew what was happening.

* * *

The Ducati ripped through the streets, expertly weaving through cars, pedestrians, cyclists. He almost wanted one of them to try and stop him, to accuse him of being reckless and wild. He wasn't the one that was being reckless this time, though, that was solely Felicity's role apparently. He hadn't realized where he was going until he got there, but he figured it was a good a place as any.

He tore off his helmet and left it next to the bike, keys hanging from the ignition, daring someone to steal it. _Please_. Giving him something to fight would've been the best gift the universe could give to him at that point.

He stalked into the building on a mission he hadn't even realized he had. Finally, he reached his destination.

"Queen, what the hell are you-" Detective Lance was in the middle of the bullpen, watching Oliver grow closer until he saw the myriad of emotions in his eyes. "Oh."

And he knew, because apparently Detective Quentin Lance knew fucking everything that happened in this city. He saw something in Oliver that told him that Felicity had come clean about everything, and as grateful the detective was that she now had support from more than just him, it became clear that Oliver was not ready for that role yet.

"You knew?" His voice was loud, accusing. Oliver didn't even give a damn about the fact that they were still standing in the middle of the precinct with the other officers not even trying to hide that they were staring. "You _knew_ and you didn't think to tell me? The hell were you thinking?"

Lance put a hand on Oliver's shoulder trying to guide him out of the busy bullpen, but Oliver quickly shook it off. He was lucky he hadn't done more, like broken his wrist, but even he knew that he couldn't get away with that in a room filled with law enforcement.

"I have no problem doing this with you, but may I remind you that not everyone in this room is a cop, and not all of them have any problems with selling you out to the highest bidder?" Quentin muttered between clenched teeth. Oliver acknowledged this and let him lead him away, but still flinched harshly when he tried to touch his shoulder again. He found himself in interrogation room 2; ironically, this was the room that Felicity had been in when Lance had first interrogated _her_.

Lance closed the door after them, and leaned against it, watching Oliver pace.

"She told you?" Well, that stopped the pacing, but only served to rile Oliver up more.

"No. She didn't tell me. We had to _guess_ and then drag it out of her!"

Lance nodded. That sounded like Felicity.

"How could you not tell me? I know you don't like me much, Detective, but you seem to care enough for Felicity, so how could you _not_ tell me?"

"Wasn't mine to tell."

Oliver had never wanted to punch the man more than he did in that moment.

"The hell it wasn't! You care about someone, you protect them. You _help _them."

Lance couldn't help the snort that came from his mouth. "That's pretty rich, coming from you."

"Is that what this is?!" He exploded. "Are you _punishing_ me? I realize that you hate me, Lance, trust me, I am well aware, but this is **not** how you go about it!"

He just shook his head at the kid in front of him, looking more like a scared boy than a Fortune 500 CEO.

"You want to yell at me? Fine. Go ahead. Yell. Scream. Accuse me of punishing you. But you need to take a step back and ask yourself if you're really mad at me, or are you mad at Felicity - or are you mad at yourself, for not noticing earlier?"

The fight didn't go out of Oliver, but the words he was ready to spew at the detective died on his lips. He was mad at _all_ of those things. He was furious that Lance didn't think to tell him, even though he knew he was just protecting Felicity's privacy. He was more than mad at Felicity for not telling him, but on top of that was the hurt and betrayal at the lies she fed him. She didn't lie to him, not ever. She called him out when he was being an idiot or an asshole or a guy whose moral code needed some major revisions. She didn't lie to his face. That wasn't who she was.

And yeah, he was man enough to admit that he was frustrated at himself for not putting all the pieces together earlier, but all that frustration served to do was make him more angry at Felicity. He didn't think there were pieces to put together because he never even considered in a million years that she would or could hide something like this from him.

"She is scared out of her mind, Oliver." Lance pushed himself off the door. "You think she has any idea what's going on? You think she wanted to lie to you? She has no idea what she's doing!"

"She told you. She told you and she didn't tell me." Of everything running through his mind, that was the one absolute he knew for sure. The one thing that he held on to, that kept his anger flowing through his veins when his mind and heart wanted nothing more than to go find Felicity and gather her up and never let her go until he healed this stupid disease with his own power of will.

"You think she told me? Why the hell would she do that?" He paused, actually expecting an answer that he would never receive. "I found her that day. I found her after they had just told her that her entire life had changed. Half catatonic and barely able to sign her name, let alone understand what the hell was happening. You think she would've come to me, of all people? You're dumber than you look. She's a good kid, Oliver. And she's scared, and worried, and she didn't know how to tell you. She didn't want to risk you doing something stupid, like oh, I don't know, come barging into a police station, causing a scene."

For what felt like the thirtieth time that minute, Oliver ran his hands over his face. He had no idea what he was doing. Lance was right, coming to the police station was a stupid move, but it was the only place he thought he could get some of his emotions out. He wanted a fight, and under any other circumstances, he felt pretty sure that Lance would've given one to him. Just not tonight, and not about this.

He looked over at the man who was watching him with curious eyes. He knew that he was being pitied. The fact that he was the man that had been responsible for ruining his marriage and his life for a good chunk of years apparently wasn't a factor, which only served to twist Oliver's stomach even more. He had felt sick since Dig had called Felicity out, right in the middle of his lair. His home base. Only the last shred of his self control kept him from hunching over and being ill right there in the interrogation room.

"What do you get out of this? Why are you being so good to her?"

Lance let out a strangled laugh. "I got two girls who don't let me buy them a cup of coffee, let alone take care of them. Helping her seemed like the right thing to do for both of us."

He wasn't unaware of the jealousy that was bubbling within him. Lance had been with Felicity every step of the way - even being there when she had just found out - and he hadn't. He was supposed to be. He was supposed to help her, to support her like she supported him in everything. And he couldn't get that back. He couldn't get the past four weeks back, couldn't get healthy Felicity back, couldn't get stupid, oblivious Oliver back.

"I've got to go." He couldn't stay there anymore. He had to move, had to run, had to do something.

"Before you go, you need to decide something, Queen."

"What?" He bit out.

"If you're gonna be there for her, you need to be there for her. Every. Single. Piece of you. You can't half-ass this. You're either in or you're out, Oliver. Something like this, it'll - it's gonna change you. And you need to take that under serious consideration as to how its going to affect the rest of your life before you go on and make promises you can't keep."

He heard his words but didn't process them. He just opened the door and blew past him and the other officers that appeared between him and the door. In another life, Oliver would've stayed and flashed a smile and a quick apology for interrupting. He tried very hard to keep his image more than a little professional now that QC was running smoothly. But that wasn't going to happen tonight. He didn't care what rumors showed up on the gossip blogs; he wasn't stopping for anything.

* * *

He had known he would end up there. He had always known, from the second he took that step around Felicity in the foundry and up the stairs.

His knuckles still stung, even though he had wrapped them in a fit of worry. He wasn't concerned with himself, he just realized how out of his depth he was in all of this. He had punched a few holes in the drywall in the club, which he knew wasn't going to go unnoticed by Thea, but the second he saw his bloody knuckles, he panicked.

Felicity had only said 'cancer' and 'a type of lymphoma.' He didn't know what that meant. As blood trickled between his hands and slipped over his palm, he starting cursing himself out. What if she wasn't allowed to be around other bodily fluids, or open wounds or something? What if they got infected? Would he not be allowed to see her because of that? So he ran downstairs to the lair and poured isopropyl alcohol all over his hands and anywhere else on his body he suspected that he might have a cut. It stung like hell but Oliver took it as penance; he deserved to feel this pain. He deserved to feel _more_. He did a perfunctory job wrapping his hands, the alcohol still burning his cuts underneath the sterile bandage. He felt fairly confident that he was staving off infection, at least for the night.

And then he came here.

He wasn't going to go in. He knew that, too. He had cut the motor on the Ducati a few streets over so she wouldn't hear him coming and made his way across the few city blocks on foot. The house across from her's had a sloped roof that provided a good angle into her living room and moderate coverage from any prying eyes on the street. He swung himself up there and settled in, not knowing what he was going to be seeing, just knowing that he was where he needed to be.

He hadn't anticipated laughter. Or Roy, for that matter. He thought if anyone was with Felicity tonight, it would have been Dig. But that kid in the red hoodie never stopped surprising him. He could make out the takeout containers in front of them - a Chinese place that they rarely ordered from because no one but Felicity liked it. They were sitting on the couch facing each other, Felicity sitting cross legged and talking animatedly with her hands and Roy casually draped in the corner, shaking his head at something she had said.

He could tell the second the conversation shifted. Whatever light and breezy topic they had previously discussed was pushed to the side, and a heaviness settled over not only them, ensconced in her living room, but him as well.

This was her life now. Heavy topics and impossible decisions and brushing away tears with a shrug because they fell so often that it was just second nature at this point. A pang suddenly shot through his heart so strongly that he couldn't stop himself from grasping it through his leather jacket. He hurt for her so damn badly. He wiped away a few stray tears, but it seemed to be a futile action. They weren't stopping.

He watched them for a while. He watched Felicity make Roy feel better, and then watched Roy comfort Felicity. He watched them fall into what had to have been an easy silence, and then watched as she tucked her head onto his shoulder, a deep shuddering breath running through her. He watched as Roy gently reached for the remote and eventually changed the channel to a baseball game. He watched as the time ticked past and Felicity's body was so still he almost had to physically restrain himself from going over and checking her breathing. And he watched as Roy turned off the TV and gathered her up, disappearing down the hall for a few minutes before returning alone.

He watched Roy look impossibly frustrated that he couldn't stop the tears that were falling from his eyes. He watched the lost look in fascination, knowing that it had to echo his own.

Oliver watched the sun rise over Felicity's house that morning, not knowing what the day was going to bring.


	2. There's Things That Are Worth Giving Up

**A/N: Shorter-ish one but expect a new chapter of For Blue Skies in the new day or so! I love all of your faces.**

* * *

_Thursday morning, 8 a.m. 23 hours before surgery_

"You're _what_?"

"It's not really up for discussion, mom."

"Well you better _make_ it up for discussion, Oliver. Honestly, what are you thinking? We have finally gotten your father's company back to a good place, and you're willing to jeopardize that?"

"You're using a fairly loose definition of 'we' right there, don't you think?"

He ignored the look of shock that appeared across Moira Queen's face at his tone. He was running on minimal sleep and his patience was running thin, that was true, but none of his words rang false. They were just perhaps not as sugar-coated as she would have preferred.

Oliver spent the night before pouring over research on the internet in regards to Felicity's cancer. She had told him some details the afternoon before, but it wasn't nearly enough to ease Oliver's mind. "B-Cell non-Hodgkin lymphoma" might have been more than what he knew initially, but he still was woefully ignorant and determined to change that. After about 7 hours of doing nothing but reading about the disease, its treatments, and its remission statistics, Oliver knew he wasn't an expert by any means, but he at least felt like he wasn't going in blind.

That's all he really could handle at that moment. If he stopped too long and thought about what it meant that Felicity - _his_ Felicity - had this life-threatening disease, then he knew he would be useless. To Felicity, to his family, to his company, to everyone. He would shut down. But he was aware of this, and instead chose to stay busy, reading medical journals and websites and researching support groups. He just had to keep moving.

Which brought him to his early morning meeting with his mother, fresh out of prison and still heavily interfering with his life. He had a busy day planned, however, including lunch with Felicity and Dig and a round of mini-golf. He refused to regret asking Felicity what she wanted to do on her last 'free' day, but when she requested mini-golf and absolutely no cancer talk at all, he did have to actively work to keep his face expressionless. He wasn't about to deny her this one thing, but he would make her promise to hack any website that posted pictures of him with a miniature golf putter.

"I'm not asking your permission, mother," he cut off her current plea for him to reconsider. "I am _telling_ you what I am planning on doing. The company is still ours. Our name is still on the building and I will still be involved. Just not to the extent that I am right now."

"And what extent is that? Do you even attend board meetings, or do you just delegate them to your assistant in the short skirt?"

Oliver rose his eyebrows at her, daring her to continue with that train of thought. She wisely chose not the follow that path, instead sagging with reluctant acceptance.

"Will you at least tell me _why_ you are doing this to us? Why you are willing to risk everything we - I'm sorry, _you_ \- have worked so hard for?"

He debated how much to tell her. He had no doubt that she would eventually learn all the details, but right now it wasn't his news to share, and he didn't particularly feel as if he needed to justify himself to her.

"My 'assistant in the short skirt,' Felicity, whose name I _know_ you're aware of, has run into some hard times and needs my support. I can't be fully committed to running a company and helping her, so I have made a choice."

"'Fully committed?'" Moira echoed. "She's your assistant for god's sake, not your wife!"

The only outward sign of the anger he felt within was a slight flaring of his nostrils, but that was the only movement necessary to make his mother laugh harshly.

"Oh my, Oliver, are you _involved_ with her? What are you thinking? You are and have always been a bright boy, but you are making a mistake! One that could ruin this family!"

The irony did not escape Oliver, but he simply ignored it for the time being.

"It is not a mistake," he told her quietly. "And it is still not up for discussion."

He gathered his coat, slipping it on while his mother stood still, absolutely flummoxed by the change in her son's behavior.

"Who is going to be willing to be the interim CEO of Queen Consolidated? Who do you think you can trust that much?"

Well, that was what Oliver was about to go and see. He didn't realize until later that he never actually refuted his mother's claims that he was involved with Felicity.

* * *

The marble clicked under his shoes, loud to him but to no one else. There were still plenty of people milling around the main floor of Starling National Bank at midmorning on a Monday, completing their transactions for a new work week, but Oliver Queen was only interested in seeing one person. He took the elevator up to the executive suites and sauntered up to the main desk, intent on using his charm.

"Walter Steele, please."

"Do you have an appointment?" The secretary didn't look up as she shuffled papers around her desk, seemingly searching for something underneath the organized stacks.

"I do not."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Steele is incredibly busy this morniiiii…Oliver Queen!" She finally looked up and the stack of papers she had been holding slid out of her hand, covering her keyboard and mouse.

"I hate to bother Mr. Steele without an appointment, but an urgent situation has come up and I need to speak with him right away. Could you please let him know that I am here?" He flashed her what he hoped was a charming smile. Mostly, he felt nervous and unsettled, something he was becoming irritatingly familiar with.

"I...yes. Of course, I can definitely do that." She scrambled to find her phone underneath her papers, but quickly alerted Walter to his presence. "You can go on in. Thanks, Mr. Queen."

He had no idea what she was thanking him for, but he politely nodded and entered Walter's office, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"Oliver, I must admit that I am surprised to see you here. Is everything alright with your family? Thea? Moira?"

"They're both fine," he assured, despite the little voice in his head that reminded him that it was his _other_ family that wasn't okay. "I realize that I don't have much of a leg to stand on here, but…I need your help."

"Forgotten the pin to your checking account again, have we?" He gestured to a seat in front of his desk. "Please, sit."

"I wish it were that simple." He slipped into a chair, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He hadn't really worked out what he was going to say, which he regretted immensely at that current point. He wasn't a headhunter for Christ's sake, how was he supposed to recruit a man from a job? An incredibly high-paying job with all sorts of benefits, he imagined, for a temporary position at the company he was clearly trying to distance himself from?

Despite being incredibly unprepared, Oliver _had_ thought this decision through. The second he started learning more about what Felicity was going to have to go through, the treatments, the tests, the procedures, he knew without a doubt that he would be there for her every single step of the way. It wasn't up for debate or argument, it was just a given. He wasn't going to miss a beat; he was going to do this right, do it with her, and that meant reevaluating some other aspects of his life, his role at QC, namely.

"Is everything okay with QC?"

"That's sort of what I'm here about."

The confusion on Walter's face was genuine. "From what I've seen, everything looks to be great. Stocks are up, confidence in the Queen name is being restored. What seems to be the problem?"

"I need a CEO."

Well, that was certainly one way to broach the subject delicately.

"I'm sorry?"

"Just for a little while."

"I'm not sure I'm following…"

"I need to step down from my position as CEO temporarily," he blurted out. "There is a...situation that needs my focus right now. I'm not going to be able to put in the time at QC that I need to."

"And you would like me to come back to QC, _temporarily_?"

"I would still be available," he rushed to say, hating the idea of having absolutely nothing to do during the day. He knew he couldn't put his entire life on pause; he had to have _something_ to devote his time and energy on. Donning the Arrow suit was only a fraction of who he was, a fraction of who he wanted to be. "I'm not asking you to come back to an 80-hour a week job, Walter. I promise you that."

"Are you quite certain everything is alright at home?"

Oliver warred with himself over what would come out of his mouth next. He didn't want to lie to Walter, or make him worry unnecessarily about Thea or Moira, and he also didn't want to betray Felicity's trust. On the other hand, he was aware of the soft spot the older gentleman had for the woman, and he knew it could work to his advantage.

"It's Felicity."

"Miss Smoak? Is she okay?" Oliver remained silent. He didn't truly know how to answer that question. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to answer, Walter switched subjects. "How temporary are you speaking of?"

"A year, give or take." It was erring on the side of caution, and should Felicity want to return to work as soon as possible, he would deal with that when the time came. But at the same time, he knew that after all this was done, after she was in _remission_, that he would need some time to decompress, and he imagined that she would, too. A tiny little corner of his mind imagined them somewhere together, a beach, or a resort of some kind, celebrating her victory over this awful disease. It made him feel a little better to have that kind of plan in the back of his mind, even if it never would come to fruition.

"Who else would you ask if I declined?"

He hadn't really thought that far. He didn't know anyone else capable of running the company in a manner befitting of a Queen, and frankly, he didn't trust anyone else to even attempt to do so.

"No one," he replied truthfully. "I would try to divide my time and attention as best I could. It would not be ideal."

"No one?" He seemed a bit mystified at Oliver's candor.

"To be fair, I would also probably send Thea in to ask you, if I failed."

Walter smiled at that, appreciating his honesty. He mulled it over for a few very long minutes.

"It wouldn't be right away. I would need your lawyers to draw up a fairly ironclad contract, complete with a few addendums of my own."

"By all means," he rushed to agree. "I will get the lawyers working on it right away. I, uh...I will not be in the office next week. If you need me, I'll be able to meet you, possibly, but I don't think I will have a physical presence at QC."

Walter nodded as Oliver stood. "I don't foresee that being an issue. I'm sure you'll be kept in the loop as to the status of the contract the entire time." He hesitated before adding, "I would also like to be kept up to date as to the status of Miss Smoak. When you are able to tell me more, of course."

"Of course. Thank you, Walter."

"You're welcome, Oliver. I'm happy you felt like you could come to me with something like this. Miss Smoak is an exceptional young woman."

"That she is."


	3. I Will Crawl

**A/N: Just a shorty of a chapter - there will be another full chapter update on For Blue Skies tomorrow! Hope this tides you over and that everyone had a wonderful weekend!**

* * *

Oliver slipped out of the room as soon as Roy had started to bounce that damn ball. The kid meant well, no doubt, but three bounces in and he knew that he wasn't going to be able to hold back his comments.

He briefly pondered where the hell his self control went. He prided himself on it, generally; his control had gotten him through the island, his control was responsible for his skill with the bow, and his control had enabled him to live two separate lives thus far. Yet a kid bounces a ball a few times and all of that went out the window and he wanted to arrow him through the hand to get him to stop. Figures.

He drove to Verdant mindlessly, well aware that he probably should've taken at least one security detail with him. His mind wasn't in the game. He wasn't aware of his surroundings, his control was hanging by a thread, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember Felicity's room number. He wasn't sure which of these facts bothered him the most.

He let himself in through the front doors of the club, a welcome change of pace for him. The house lights were up and he could see various vendors bringing in crates from the back. Thea sat at a high top table, papers in front of her and a pen in her mouth. The vision was so very _Felicity_ that it actually gave him pause.

"Ollie!" Thea looked up and saw him standing there, just watching her with a curious expression on his face. "What are you doing here? Don't you have a job?"

"Wanted to come see you." He finally regained his bearings and crossed the room to where she sat, giving her a hug and a kiss on her forehead. He felt better after touching her, after confirming that she was real. That she was healthy.

"If you're looking for Roy, he's not here. He's been acting kind of weird lately; and not like typical Roy weird. He's been looking...sad. Do you know what's been up with him?"

Thea spoke fast, again, not unlike Felicity, but her words were measured, precise. She let her guard down around Oliver more so than around others, willing to show her vulnerability when it came to Roy, but he still noted that while confusion painted her face, the real hurt was in her eyes. To anyone else, she would've looked only slightly put out with her boyfriend's behavior, but Oliver could tell that she was questioning it deeply.

"Yeah, I think I do. It's what I came to talk to you about actually."

"Oh? What's up?" Again, a forced lightness to her words as she indicated for Oliver to sit across from her. He felt out of his depth suddenly, and he briefly wondered if he should have let Roy do this for him. But Thea's eyes were wide and she looked for a moment like the little kid he had left behind before the island and he knew he had to be the one to tell her. But all of his lies and half-truths had built up in their relationship, and he found himself unsure of how to tell her something so serious, so true. His instincts were to protect her, to lie, to say that it wasn't anything big, to minimize it, but he knew he couldn't do that to Thea _or_ Felicity.

"You know Felicity?"

"_Yeah_," Thea drawled. "I'm vaguely aware of your EA that is by your side at every minute of every day."

"There's something...she's in the hospital."

"What happened? Is she okay?"

He had no idea how to answer that and it must've shown on his face, because Thea put her hand over his, resting them on the table. He looked up, his eyes searching the rafters for the right words to say, finding none.

"She's sick."

"Sick? What kind of sick?"

"She has cancer."

Thea's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes instantly welling with tears.

"Ollie…"

"She's in surgery today, before she starts treatment." He could do this, he told himself. He just had to keep it clinical and detached and he could _do this_.

"But she - she was fine! I saw her the other day! _She looked fine!_"

He envied Thea at that moment. Not because of the situation he had just put her in, but because everything she said, every emotion she expressed, was exactly what Oliver craved to do. He wanted to rant, to break things that weren't just drywall, he wanted to question how it was even possible, but he couldn't. He had to be strong for Felicity. Strong for Team Arrow.

"So, Roy…?"

Oliver nodded. "We found out the other day. Felicity told me this morning that it was okay to tell you. She's sorry that couldn't be the one to do it." Thea put her head in her hands, elbows propped on the table. She couldn't even comprehend it. "We're keeping this under wraps Speedy, do you understand? I don't want mom to know, not yet."

"Okay," she wiped her eyes, gathering her strength before giving Oliver a curious look. "What are you going to do, Ollie?"

It was the first time someone had asked _him_ what he was going to do to get through this. He had focused so much attention on Felicity in the past few days, making sure that she was doing what she needed to be, that the doctors were doing what _they_ needed to be doing, that he didn't realize that someone might have the same questions about him.

"I've taken a temporary leave of absence from QC. Walter will be the CEO in the interim and I will take on more of an advisor role until I can return."

"Well that's great but that's not really what I was talking about." Oliver's face wrinkled in an unspoken question. "She's _Felicity_. _Your_ Felicity. Are...are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Thea. Just worried about her."

"You look like you haven't slept in a year. And this...this is a big deal."

"I had noticed that."

"Okay." Thea dropped it and focused on her shoes, succinctly making Oliver feel terrible. He knew that this had to be hard for her; she had already been through more than she ever should have to go through, and while Starling City held so many dangers, it seems like this one, insidious disease, had never truly been counted among them.

"I'm sorry, Speedy," he stood, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. "This is just...unexpected. I'm still trying to come to terms with it. I got her a private room at the hospital, I took time off from QC, but it's just - I haven't had time to really sit and process it. It's been a hell of a week. Do you want me to let you know when she's out of surgery?"

Thea nodded against his chest.

"You're more than welcome to come down after, too. I know she'd love to see you."

"I don't want to intrude." She pulled away then and he watched as her own personal mask fell over her face, smoothing out her features and hiding whatever feelings lurked behind her eyes. "Keep me updated?"

"You could never intrude. But I'll make sure either Roy or I text you updates, okay? And hey," he lightly cupped her chin, hoping to be as sincere as possible. "She's going to get through this. She's strong, and a fighter, and she can do this. I promise you."

He wasn't sure who the words were actually comforting at that moment, but he gave a tight smile to his sister as she straightened up and took a deep breath.

"You're right. Besides, she's kind of a pain in the ass. I'm sure cancer didn't know what it was getting itself into when it chose her."

A genuine smile spread across his face at that. "I'll be sure to tell Felicity you said that."


	4. This Room's Too Small

**A/N: So, not to say that none of these chapters will be long, but for now - Oliver's story is so entwined with Felicity's, there's really not a ton of time by himself. In case you were wondering why this is short(er). But anyway - here's a little glimpse into Oliver...and Thea! Yay.**

* * *

Oliver's mind never strayed too far from Felicity. Even before her diagnosis that much was true, but now with it on the tip of everyone's tongue, he felt like he at least had solid reasoning for it. Which is why even now, when he knew she was with the more-than-capable Detective Lance, he still found himself wondering what she was doing and what they were talking about and what if she told Lance things that she would have told him, had he been there?

Never mind the fact that Felicity herself had kicked him out of her apartment, claiming that she wanted this Wednesday morning to be coffee with her and Lance like always. She hadn't felt up for going out, having been home for only a few days and still settling back into her life, trying to figure out what kind of life she even had when she wasn't always at Queen Consolidated, but the good detective had stopped and showed up at her doorstep at 9am with two brightly colored cardboard to-go cups, and Oliver had promptly been shoved out the door.

He had some errands to run anyway, so he wasn't too put out with his hasty exit from the apartment, despite putting up a pretty big fight to her anyways, but that was mostly to see her smile. He was going to go grocery shopping as step one in his grand plan to introduce Felicity to life outside of her apartment. They were going to do a dinner at her place the following night, and if nothing went wrong, she'd try coming in to the Foundry that weekend. Fridays and Saturdays were some of the busiest nights for his side business, and he could tell she was getting a little restless in her own little bubble. He thought it'd be good for her to go out and be part of the world, but he also knew that she was feeling nervous at the prospect. For all of her restlessness, Felicity had yet to mention leaving her apartment, almost as if she felt like she couldn't.

Oliver, after some coercion by Dig and Roy, decided to do a dinner for her. A group dinner away from the hospital and away from treatments and away from _everything_. If that didn't get her feeling happier and more self-assured, he wasn't sure what would.

But to do that, there was one person he needed to see first.

"Busy?" He asked, poking his head around the corner.

"Hey, stranger!" An easy smile spread across Thea's face and Oliver knew that an answering one was on his own face whether he liked it or not. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you."

Thea had stopped going through her closet when Oliver walked in but immediately resumed her previous activity, throwing dresses into a pile on the floor. He didn't know what kind of organizational system she had, but he assumed it was beyond his basic fashion sense.

"To what do I owe the honor?" Her back was to him and if he hadn't become so good at reading people, he might have missed the tension that was coursing through her small frame.

"I know I haven't been around much…"

"I saw you last week," she tossed over her shoulder. "When you were packing a bag."

"Still," he pressed. "I've been feeling bad."

"I get it, Ollie, trust me. No need to feel bad. At all. Mom and I can manage on our own, you don't need to come check up on me."

"You could always come visit me."

There was no mistaking the distinct pause Thea had before almost furiously resuming her search through her closet, slamming hangers to the side, ripping dresses off them and throwing them into the growing pile.

"Yeah, the club's just so busy lately and we got a new DJ and it's just been a huge mess. I'll make sure to come by once everything has cooled off, you know?"

"You haven't seen her since I told you she was sick."

He didn't know what was going on with Thea, but he was determined to find out. He might have believed that she was busy for the first few days but he knew that she could have made time in her schedule to stop by for a brief visit if nothing else. Not only that, but Roy felt as if she was blowing Felicity off deliberately every time he invited her to accompany him to the hospital.

Thea and Felicity weren't _close_, not like Sara and Felicity were, but they had shared a camaraderie and an easy friendship, the foundation being built upon how much of a pain in the ass it was to deal with him. He knew they did lunch together and he would occasionally do a dinner with both of them, pretending to be frustrated when they ganged up on him but secretly enjoying seeing two of his favorite people get along so well. Knowing this was why he couldn't fathom why Thea had been going out of her way to not check in on Felicity. He had seen the tears in her eyes when he told her about the cancer. He knew she was shaken, but he didn't know why that was keeping her away, especially when it was obvious that this meant a lot to him.

"I will." The promise rung empty in Oliver's ears.

"We're doing a dinner at her place tomorrow. I'll see you there then."

"Tomorrow? I don't know, Thursdays are kind of when the club picks up-"

"It's at 6. More than enough time to get to the club after."

"Ollie, I just don't know if I'll have time-"

"She wants to see you, Thea." Oliver gave up trying to be obtuse but kept his voice deliberately soft. "What's going on with you? Why won't you come see her?"

"I've been busy." She turned around but wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Bullshit." That had gotten her attention. "You've had _weeks_ to come see her, Roy says that you barely show an interest when he invites you-"

"You talked to _Roy_ about me?"

"Roy thinks you're blowing her off intentionally and I said that there was no way my baby sister would do something like that to someone she cares about! So I'll ask you again, Speedy: what is going on with you?"

Her mouth opened and closed but words refused to flow out.

"Whatever it is, Thea, you can tell me."

"She's going to think I hate her," she got out, her voice timid and weak. "I don't, Ollie. I promise."

"No one thinks you hate her. I can promise you that. But you've got to tell me what's going on in that head of yours; I'm not a mind reader."

Suddenly, whatever barriers she had constructed to keep her emotions at bay for the last few weeks collapsed, and Oliver watched as his little sister visibly sagged in front of him.

"I just - I don't know what to do or say, Ollie! And I don't hate her but I'm just so stupid and scared and nothing like this has ever happened before and I don't know what to say or do and I feel so bad that she's going through this…" Tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away hastily. "And you're scared too and I don't know how to be there for either one of you and I feel so useless and horrible-"

"Okay, okay, okay," Oliver soothed as he gathered her in his arms, her hands clutching him tightly. "It's okay. You're not useless or horrible, Speedy. It's okay to be scared. We're all scared, you're right. Felicity's scared, I'm scared, Roy's scared. I don't even remember what it's like to not be afraid anymore," he confessed in a rare bout of honesty. "But pushing her away, pushing _me_ away, it isn't going to help anyone. You can't just push people away because you're afraid you'll lose them."

As soon as he spoke the words he felt like the world's biggest hypocrite. Hadn't that been exactly what he was doing to Felicity ever since he met her? He kept her at arm's length to guarantee that he didn't get too close. That she didn't get too close. He didn't have any guarantees, any promises that neither one of them would leave before their time. If anything, this whole ordeal had reminded him that it wasn't always just the danger you know that was the threat. In this case it was the danger that had no face, a danger that had no way of being put down by him.

"Is she mad?" Thea's voice interrupted his erratic thought process, and for a moment he was struck by how many memories just that simple phrase and the sound of her voice brought back. It was slightly muffled from her face pushed into his chest and tears clogging her throat, and he was instantly taken back to when she'd run to him after she had gotten yelled at by their parents. He'd hug her and reassure her that they weren't mad at her, just disappointed, the typical parent trope, and that most importantly, _he_ wasn't mad at her either.

"She's not mad. No one is mad. But I think she misses you." Thea pulled back, her face questioning. "She's only had me, Dig, Roy, and Detective Lance these past few weeks. I think a female presence would be appreciated."

"That's a lot of testosterone," she agreed.

"I'm not mad at you either, Thea." She tried to look away but he kept her eyes trained on his. "I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me about this though. I know I haven't been here lately but I will _always_ talk to you. Always."

"I know. I do. And I didn't - I don't…" She shrugged. "Is she okay?"

Oliver nodded, letting her off the hook momentarily.

"She is okay. She looks good. She actually looks healthy, which I think is throwing everyone off. I think it'd be good for you to see how well she's doing. This isn't going to keep her down for long, Speedy. So what do you say to dinner tomorrow?"

"Okay. I'll come. What do I wear?"

"I have no idea how you ever find anything to wear in this place," he drawled, taking in the huge pile of clothes on the floor and the overflowing drawers and hangers that surrounded them. "Is this you organizing, or…?"

"Get out," she laughed, half-heartedly shoving him towards the door of her walk-in. He paused before he left her though, debating the merit of his next sentence before deciding to bite the bullet.

"You know, if you don't think you can talk to me...you can always talk to Roy, if you feel the need. He wants to be there for you if you'd let him."

Thea felt her jaw drop. "Are you feeling okay? I just never thought I'd hear those words come out of your mouth, suggesting that I talk to _Roy_."

"I'm trying to remind myself that people need to talk to someone other than me at times."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?"

Oliver glanced at his watch. "I've got three more hours before I can interrupt Felicity and Lance with some sort of excuse. Wanna get brunch?"

"Sure." Thea dropped the dress in her hands where she stood. "I guess my organizing can wait."

"Organizing? It looks like a bomb went off in there," Oliver joked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, leading her downstairs.

"You're just mad because you don't understand my system."

"If you can call throwing everything everywhere a _system_…"


	5. I'm Lost At Sea

**A/N - At the bottom of the chapter!**

* * *

He let himself rest against her bedroom door as he closed it behind him. He felt...heavy. Like every square inch of pressure in the galaxy was weighing on him, pushing his shoulders down, his head down, his _soul_ down.

He hurt. If it were physically, he could handle that. He had taught himself how to separate the different forms of physical pain, the different methods of torture, the different sensations that could or would barrage his body. He knew how to deal with that. He knew how to separate himself from that. He was more than his body, more than his corporeal form.

What he couldn't separate himself from was Felicity. He had spoken the truth to her, however inelegant it was, when he had told her that he **couldn't not be with her**. He had thought about it, genuinely considered it, when he had first found out she was sick. He thought that maybe his presence in Starling City would hinder her recovery or her treatment. He had had those thoughts before her diagnosis as well, wondering if her nighttime activities helping him were putting her at unnecessary risk. He thought maybe if he just stepped away…

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. The idea of leaving her alone in this was unbearable to him.

He hurt, but it wasn't his body. It was his heart and his mind and his soul and it was so goddamn hard for him to figure out which part of him was suffering the most when all he could think about was how much Felicity was suffering.

Oliver had been selfish before the island, but he prided himself on losing that part of him on his long journey to who he was today. He took great comfort in knowing that he wasn't the most important thing in the universe anymore. There was a sense of ease now, a sense of relief almost. And then he had met Dig and he had met Felicity and he'd be damned if it wasn't the most selfish thing in the world for him to keep her so close.

Sure, he offered her some things that made his presence bearable. He could provide for her financially and get her a nice room in the hospital and hold her hair back when she was sick, but couldn't anyone? Wasn't that a role, a void, that anyone could fill? Dig certainly could. Roy, even, if he ever got over his fear of bodily fluids that weren't his. But buying her dinner, taking care of her when she was ill, that was _peanuts_ compared to what her mere presence did for him.

He wasn't blind or oblivious; he knew that Felicity had harbored a crush on him in the beginning of their relationship. He also was acutely aware of when the shine had dulled on him and she saw him for who he was: a killer, a monster, a wannabe savior. She hadn't run away, which of course only served to pull him closer, but she had started to stand up to him, to give him the honest feedback that he had been lacking ever since returning from Lian Yu. He remembered vividly the first time she had talked back to him - it was about something inconsequential now, but she had felt passionately about at the time. It was at that moment that he realized that as much as he didn't _want_ to be without her, he wasn't sure he _could_ be without her.

All of those little moments, those tiny shards of time, they all piled together to create the deep stabbing sensation he felt in his heart and gut. He couldn't be without her.

And he felt like such an idiot for just realizing this now, when she was sick. A part of him wondered if this was the catalyst he needed, if this was what was necessary to kick his ass into gear and to come to terms with the emotions she elicited in him. Another part of him cursed it so deeply he wondered if he'd ever be able to forgive her for this sickness, despite the fact that she hadn't chosen this and would have done anything necessary to not have to endure it. He needed her and she wasn't..._available_, for lack of a better term. He knew that if he tried to tell her how he felt now, she would assume it was due to the sickness. Even if he got her to accept it, she would always wonder, in the back of her mind, if it wasn't just because she had cancer.

He had told himself before that it just wasn't the right time. He hadn't saved Starling, he was still struggling with Laurel, he was still ruing the day he met Helena - it just was **never** the right time. And now this had happened and while he never thought he'd see the day where he was disappointed he hadn't confessed his honest emotions earlier, he found himself wondering if only he had been a little more forthcoming a few months ago, if maybe that would make it easier now for her to swallow the idea of him and her. Of them. Of an _us_.

So he settled for what he had. He had the opportunity and the capability to take care of her. He had the money to provide for her. He had the shoulder for her to cry on. He had vague statements to her professing his love, even if it was shrouded with words like, 'can't not be.' That was how he knew she was tired; she never would have let him get away with a double negative like that if she had been fully cognizant.

He had to wait for her to realize that he was there because he loved her, and he had to wait to see what she would do with that information.

Oliver Queen was not a patient man.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, pushing off the door and making his way to the kitchen. He had to prepare something for himself to eat and make a plate for Felicity if she happened to wake up later and be hungry. He was reheating some borscht that was frozen in individual containers courtesy of Raisa when an unfamiliar ringtone began to sound from nearby.

He knew it wasn't any of the typical ones on his or Felicity's personal phones, which could only mean one other option.

He rushed to the small built-in bookcase on the end of the counter and knelt by it, jamming his thumb onto the small box that sat on the second shelf. It was plain silver and innocuous as ever, but the small click as it recognized his thumbprint reminded him that it was anything but harmless.

The ringing grew louder as he opened it and grabbed the cellphone that was lying there on top. It was the 'Arrow phone,' as Felicity had dubbed it, and although he could have guessed without seeing the display, it was Detective Lance calling.

"Hello." He felt as if he barely needed the voice modulating software as his own tone right then had to have been just as dark and menacing as the fake, garbled thing this spat out, but he couldn't very well turn it off after seeing Lance almost daily for the last few weeks.

"I'm calling to see how our girl is."

"You could call Oliver Queen. I'm sure you're aware of him staying with her." He was actually at a loss as to why he would call his alter ego over the guy that admitted to watching her day in and day out.

"She told me that she was going to be working with you this weekend. I wanted to make sure she was okay. Sometimes I think Queen hides things from me if he thinks I can't take it."

He was surprised to realize that Lance had noticed his habit of obfuscating some details when it came to Felicity's health. It was never important things, but he didn't want to upset the man, and he also didn't want it to seem as if he couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle her. He thought if he downplayed what they went through every day then maybe he would understand and see Oliver Queen as he worthy of her.

"She was fine when working with me. At the end, she got ill. She must have overdone it; she was so excited to be back that I don't think she realized the strain she placed on her body."

He had the luxury of being a little more forthcoming with Lance when he was the Arrow versus Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen had a lot of history with the detective and neither one of them was very interested in the sound of the other's voice, aside from dealing with Felicity. The Arrow was able to give more details in a clinical manner without fear of additional scrutiny, and he never felt as if the detective was looking for faults or weaknesses within his words.

"She wants things to be normal so badly, I don't think she realizes that things aren't as black and white as normal and abnormal," Lance agreed. "Are you going to let her continue to work for you?"

"She enjoys it. I will monitor her and make sure that she doesn't push herself too far like she did today. I will protect her. I just want her to be able to continue to do the few things that she can still do and enjoy as well."

"Hard to remember that she's so sick when she feels so well. But the easier she takes it now, the faster she can bounce back from this thing."

"Yes. I'm…" He didn't want to give too much away, but it felt right to let Lance in on this little bit. "It's hard watching her deal with this. In my position, there is only so much I can do for her. She appreciates your friendship more than she lets on. I'm glad you're there for her."

"Yeah, well, she appreciates you too," Lance grumbled. Oliver smiled to himself; the man had never been good at accepting compliments. "And don't sell yourself short. You do a lot for her too, I'm sure." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, keep me updated. Thanks for telling me about tonight. We usually do coffee on Mondays but I'll go ahead and drop something off. Make sure she doesn't overdo it again, okay?"

"You're okay-" He stopped himself. He had been about to ask Lance if he was okay with Felicity continuing to work for him, for her to keep putting herself at risk, whether from immune system attacks or stray arrows. He had never sought the man's permission before, but something about his connection with Felicity, his paternal bond, made him actually want the man's approval. He wanted Lance to agree with his decision to let Felicity work with him, he didn't want this to be another thing they disagreed on.

"This disease has robbed more things from her than I think she wants anyone to know. So yeah, I'm okay with her doing the one thing she loves more than the entire world. Just keep an eye on her. I'll talk to you later."

Oliver stared at the phone in his hand, unaccustomed to being hung up on. Would he ever know what to make of Detective Quentin Lance?

* * *

**A/N: Everyone is free to draw whatever conclusions they would like to about the relationship between Oliver/Lance/The Arrow. My own personal conclusions/story-relevant ones will be revealed in good time. I thought this chapter was important to highlight that just because Oliver might know what to say to Felicity or how to handle certain situations, there's always going to be a part of him that is drowning in all of this. It is harder than a lot of people think to be the person watching and taking care of the cancer patient and trying to make all the right moves.**


	6. I Finally Lost My Mind

**A/N: I hope this chapter is just as fun to read as it was to write!**

* * *

He needed to get to QC and sit in on some performance reviews, the one thing that Walter didn't feel comfortable covering by himself since he hadn't worked with these people all that long, but there was someplace he needed to go first.

He shook his head as opened the door to the Foundry. Monday morning and both Dig and Roy were there. Dig was sitting in front of Felicity's computers, trying to make sense of one of her reports, and Roy was lazily throwing knives at a target on the wall.

"Pretty early for you to be here, Roy," Oliver commented as he set down his coat.

"Thea needed to be here for some deliveries." Oliver stopped in his tracks and stared at the boy, who sighed. "And I of course picked her up from her home with your mother at 7 am before dropping her off here and coming downstairs."

"Thanks, that was nice of you."

Roy and Dig rolled their eyes at Oliver's insistence that Thea was still a 12 year old, innocent girl.

"She's probably going to need you to cover for those deliveries though, if her bartender isn't here in time to sign for them."

"Huh?"

"She's taking Felicity to the salon today in a bit; I called her before heading over here." Oliver dug through a few drawers before finding the bag he needed.

"Everything cool?" Roy followed him to the medbay where he was unzipping the bag. Diggle hadn't moved but his ears were tracking the entire conversation.

"Yeah, she just...needs to do something. And so do I." Oliver brandished the electronic clippers in his hands triumphantly.

"You're shaving your scruff? Man, I thought Felicity really liked that?"

The look Oliver gave Roy was a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and reluctant humor. It took him a few second to catch on.

"Oh, you're going to shave your head!" Another pause. "Oh shit, is Felicity shaving her head?"

"You graduated high school, right?" Dig asked as he stood up and joined them. "You thought this through, man? Not everyone can rock something as smooth as me. And Felicity doesn't really seem like the type that needs everyone around her to be on the same page."

"I thought about it, yes. And...and it was something Felicity said, actually, that convinced me. She said that she couldn't wait to be the one with the 'shortest hair' or something."

"So?" Roy twirled the clippers around absentmindedly.

"_So_," Oliver snatched them back, "she's not getting it all shaved off today. Not yet, at least. And you're right, Dig, I don't think she'd want us to all have completely shaved heads in her honor. It would be too much attention for her. _But_…"

"But, if you get your hair cut just a little shorter than her's…" Dig smiled at his friend.

"Exactly."

"And you were gonna do it yourself? Here?"

"Well...yeah. Just a quick thing before I go to work. How hard can it be? Don't you do your own hair?"

"Hah." Dig turned very serious. "No. And I'm not gonna let you, either. I've done a few of my buddies' hair in the army and all you white boys like the same style anyway, so give it here. I'll fix you up."

"Is this going to take long?" Oliver asked as he pulled the rolling chair to the middle of the floor. Dig snapped out a sheet that they usually used for the medbay and tucked it around Oliver.

"Whoa, this is getting legit," Roy commented.

"Well, unless Oliver wants tiny little hairs in his shirt, pricking him and making him itchy as all hell, it's gonna stay legit."

"Good point," Roy murmured as he unzipped his hoodie.

"What are you doing?" Oliver asked, concerned about the impromptu stripping down that seemed to be occurring in front of him.

"I don't want to get hair in my favorite hoodie, okay?" At their looks, he scoffed loudly. "What, like you guys thought I wasn't going to cut my hair too?"

"You sure, kid?"

Roy had the longest hair out of all of them and had been known to spend a lot of time on it, making sure it looked the way he wanted. He prized his hair, yeah, but it was still just _hair_.

"...Why wouldn't I be?"

It was such a natural question to Roy, he honestly didn't overthink it. It wasn't a decision, as far as he was concerned: Oliver said this would make Felicity feel better, so he was going to do it. That simple.

Dig clapped him on the shoulder and Oliver was giving him some sort of strange look that Roy couldn't place.

"Good man," Dig said gruffly as he turned on the clippers. "You ready?"

Oliver nodded. Unlike Roy, he had understood that this as a decision, and he hoped against all hope that it didn't backfire. He was sure that Felicity would be a little more than miffed if they all completely shaved their heads, but he felt like this was a good compromise. An effort to make her feel better without feeling like she was impeding their lives.

He studied himself in the mirror afterwards while Roy was getting his own shave. It wasn't too short and he prayed it was just a bit shorter than Felicity's. He even kind of liked the way it looked; he had craved short hair so desperately on the island, but at his mother's insistence that he didn't try to overcompensate for anything when he returned, he had settled for a more popular style, never going too short. This wasn't too bad, he figured, running his hand over it lightly. A part of him even hoped his mom had a bit of a coronary at it.

"Check it out." Roy did a little spin as he got out of the chair before coming up next to Oliver and looking in the mirror beside him. "It's like the unofficial haircut of Team Arrow."

"Something like that, kid," he muttered before playfully rubbing the kid's head and shoving him away. "I've got to get to QC."

"You need a driver? I am gonna need Felicity's help to make sense of this. Nothing is jumping out at me."

"Sure. Roy, you wanna go upstairs and make sure Megan's got the deliveries covered?"

"No problem. I'll see you later at Felicity's! Your sister better dig my hair, man!"

Dig and Oliver left through the back, stepping out into the crisp September air.

"Wow, it's cold up here now," Oliver put a hand to his head mockingly. "Is this what you feel like all the time?"

"Get in the damn car. Hope everyone thinks you got that haircut to hide a bald spot," he muttered good naturedly. Sometimes it didn't hurt to have a boss like Oliver Queen.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, Walter, I had to…" He floundered briefly, trying to think up a valid excuse.

"Get a new haircut? No worries, we were just about to get started."

"Just trying to look like you, you know, show you that I'm really taking my part-time CEO role seriously."

"Yes, of course," Walter commented dryly. "Shall we begin?"

It was after lunch when they finally finished the performance reviews and Oliver had given all the relevant feedback he could.

"I'm sorry I wasn't more organized," he apologized sincerely. "I usually just...I have things more together than this."

"I understand. The loss of Miss Smoak is a critical one."

The phrasing didn't sit well with Oliver and he felt as if he had to clarify. "I didn't _lose_ her. I mean, she's still here. She's not going anywhere."

"Yes, of course, I didn't mean...actually, there is something you should know."

"About Jenkins?" He asked, referencing the last employee to leave his office.

"About Miss Smoak, incidentally."

"Oh." He swallowed hard. "What is it?"

"There has been talk...water cooler chatter, if you will, that she and you have...gone off together."

"Gone off? Gone off...where?"

"You have to understand that this sort of talk was bound to happen, what with the secretive nature of both of your absences, but I'll have you know that if there is a shred of truth to it, I will have...let's just say I will have a lot to say about it."

"Shred of truth to what, exactly?"

"They say that you have gotten Miss Smoak pregnant. And her absence is to facilitate that."

He knew his jaw dropped. He was usually much better at hiding his true reactions to such things, but he had been expecting Walter to say...well, anything except that. He had actually expected a story closer to the truth, if he was being honest.

"Walter, uh, Mister Steele - that is...that is _not_ true. In any way, shape, or form."

"I'm happy to hear." And the man did look a bit relieved. Oliver couldn't believe that he had actually considered that to be an option! "Is she doing well, then?"

"Who?"

"Felicity, Oliver."

"Oh! Yes, she is. She's...it's a rough patch right now, but she'll be okay."

"I'm happy to hear that. Again, whenever you are able to, I'd...I'd like to personally see to it that she is okay."

_And not pregnant_, Oliver thought bitterly, but he just nodded. The man really did only have the wellbeing of Felicity in his mind, which was appreciated.

He quickly said his goodbyes, eager to get home to Felicity and see how she was coping with the hair setback she had experienced earlier. And, if he was honest, he wanted to see her reaction to _his_ hair.

He decided to go to that coffee shop a block down the street to pick Felicity up a muffin she liked so much while Dig was pulling the car around. He knew that Lance had only showed up with coffee that morning and while he might lament the prices of the coffee there, he had to admit that the muffins were really good and he was actually a fan of the croissants as well.

Which was why he was particularly put out when they told him they had just sold the last croissant to a previous customer. He was paying for the muffin when he spied the behind the counter help bagging the croissant. He briefly contemplated just stealing it right then and there - they were seriously delicious - but that thought was put on hold when he saw the customer reaching for the bag.

"_Detective Lance_?"

The man in question took the croissant and turned and faced Oliver Queen. The same Oliver Queen who was now sporting a virtually identical shaved haircut as the detective.

"Well, this is awkward."

* * *

"Oh, this is good," Dig crowed as the two men stepped outside the coffee shop where he waited patiently beside the town car. "Did you two plan this? Call each other up and ask each other what number blade you were using? I swear, if you two start dressing identical, I'm going to look for other employment."

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Oliver gritted out.

"You have no idea."

"I think I do." He turned to Lance. "What are you even doing here? You hate this place."

"Felicity got me hooked on these damn croissants! And what are you doing here? And what's with the hair?"

"I could ask you the same thing! I saw you five hours ago!"

"And I did it the second I left after your little sister showed up."

"I did it the second I left after _you_ showed up."

"I guess this means you didn't call each other," Dig mumbled. "Listen, are you two seriously arguing over who cut their hair first?"

"_Yes_!" The two men responded in tandem.

"Well, it's not the _most_ ridiculous thing I've seen two grown men fight about."

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's right. This is stupid. We should be happy that we both had the same idea to help Felicity."

"Even if I had the idea first," Lance pointed out.

"You did _not_ have the-"

"Dad, Ollie! What are you two doing here?" Laurel Lance stood a few feet away with what looked to be one of her coworkers from the District Attorney's office. She took in their haircuts. "Did you two plan this?"

"_No_!"

Oliver threatened Dig with a single finger, daring him to say something. He remained silent but his smile was growing exponentially.

"What are you doing here, hun?" Detective Lance ignored Dig and Oliver for the time being in favor of his eldest daughter.

"We just got a late lunch down a few blocks away, we were heading back to the office. I haven't seen you in so long - is this hair new?"

"Yeah, pretty new. Newer than his," he motioned to Oliver who opened and closed his mouth, wanting to rebuttal but somehow unable to do so without looking like an ass.

"Well, it looks great. Listen, I'm pretty busy with depositions this week at night, but how about we get breakfast one day before your shift starts?"

"Sure, that sounds good honey."

"How about Wednesday? We can go here, now that I know you like it so much." She nodded to the bag still clutched in his hands.

"Yeah, why-"

Oliver cleared his throat loudly, looking pointedly at Detective Lance. Wednesday mornings were his and Felicity's and if Lance wouldn't protect them then he would.

Recognition clicked on the detective's face and he backtracked. "Actually, Wednesday is no good for me. Got a meeting. How about Thursday? Or we can even do something this weekend. Whatever works for you."

Thrown off by his sudden change in heart but seeing no fault in it, Laurel agreed easily.

"I'll see you then. You two really do look cute," she teased as she walked away.

"I'm leaving," Oliver told Lance. "And we are never talking about this ever again. Not a word, Diggle."

Dig grinned at Lance as he closed the door behind Oliver.

"Felicity is gonna _love_ this."

* * *

**A/N2: Luckily, both Stephen Amell and Colton Haynes, not to mention Paul Blackthorne, have all graced us with their shaved head looks, so it requires very little imagination on anyone's part. Are they not all perfect?**


	7. And Then I Lost My Way

**A/N: I loved writing this chapter probably as much as I hated writing it. The subject matter is harsh. I cried when I wrote it and I cried when I edited it and if I'm completely honest, I could probably cry just thinking about it - and I'm not a big crier. I hope when you read this chapter that you remember what it means (and not just that I'm absolutely horrid at finding the voice of John Diggle.) I hope you just remember that cancer affects everyone. From the person sitting through chemotherapy to the people who watch the tears fall. Everything, _everyone_ is connected. I'm sure there's a proverb in there or something. Whatever, you know what I mean.**

**After this, I should be back to my regularly scheduled updating of Thursday morning/Sunday night. Got off track this past week so I'll be posting another chapter of For Blue Skies on Thursday. I really want you all to enjoy this chapter (is that the right word? I really want you to all cry, so...) Read away!**

* * *

**DETECTIVE LANCE**

"Hey, kid. This is, uh, this is a bit awkward, I guess."

Detective Quentin Lance had never been particularly loquacious. He knew that he talked when it mattered though, and that was what was important. His ex-wife had never insinuated that he was a bad conversationalist, and unlike so many other failed marriages, their downfall hadn't been caused by a lack of communication. Still, he knew that his strength lied in his silence. That was what he offered people, it was what he offered Felicity Smoak. When she was diagnosed and it was nothing but people talking at her and about her and to her, he had given her his silence. A listening ear. A shoulder to cry on.

Which was probably why he felt so out of place now, in a situation where she couldn't speak at all, and it was all falling on him. His silence wouldn't help him now.

She looked tiny in that big hospital bed, with so many tubes and wires and monitors. She always looked small to him though, that was nothing new. She reminded him of a kitten: all sweet and cuddly and feminine on the outside, when every now and then her fur would go up and she'd hiss and even if you weren't intimidated per se, you took a step back and appreciated the fact that she didn't realize how small she was. She didn't care.

What he wouldn't give to have her open her eyes and hiss at him right then. Maybe whine that he was getting too soft in his old age. Grumble about the three donuts he ate that morning. Glare at the idea of him missing another day of work, shirking his responsibilities.

What he wouldn't give.

"I'm not a big talker. That's you. But I figure if they put me in this room with you, they kind of want me to say something, right?" He groaned. "I don't know what to say, I don't know what I'm doing here, kid. I need you to wake up and get better though because you're scaring the hell out of all of us. Queen looks like he's going to rip someone's head off. I'd hate to have to arrest him when I kind of feel like doing the same thing. Don't tell him that, though. Every now and then I like to punch out my anger too."

He laughed self consciously, running his hand over his head in a new nervous gesture that he had developed. His eyes drifted to Felicity's head, the buzzcut now prominent, her wig lying folded up and forgotten on a nearby table.

"First time I've seen your haircut, kid. Glad mine actually is shorter than yours, I was getting nervous. Doesn't look all that bad, either. I say, forget the wig and wear this out all the time. I know you don't see it, always trying to cover up anything that could make you look sick, but...it's like a badge of honor, you know? Like a purple heart or something. All these scars and the hair and the port, it's like...it's like a sign that you fought. You fought damned hard and you beat this son of a bitch. And I'm gonna need you to fight a little more, okay? I know- I know you're tired and you probably could name a lot of other things you'd rather be doing, but not right now, okay? Just fight a little bit more through this and we can do those other things later. Hell, I bet Queen buys you an island after you make it through this, the kid's so worried.

"He'd do anything for you, you know. I guess I saw it before, but, eh...you're always telling me this is a new Queen, some sort of version 2.0 or whatever geek speak you spit out, but I guess I never took it seriously before. But I think you're right. Kid's going crazy waiting for you to wake up and be better. Never seen anything like it. You gotta wake up and keep him in line or else I think he's liable to destroy this entire hospital. Already broke the damn TV remote in the waiting room, and you know I like watching those dumb daytime game shows with you when we have coffee. Can't figure out how to change the channel on that POS TV now."

He wiped his eyes a bit, feeling them start to water. Just the brief idea of her not waking up, not getting better, not being able to watch those stupid shows with him was enough to set him off. He let his hand find her's, grimacing at the IV that was there. There were other lines going to her port, he could see those, but apparently it wasn't enough, and she had to have an IV too.

"You're gonna hate that," he muttered, lightly stroking the back of her hand, mindful of the needle. "Laurel used to cry like a banshee when she was getting shots as a kid. Sara never minded it really, just wanted the lollipop at the end, but Laurel...woo. She would scream louder than I ever heard the second they took out that syringe. Never seen someone like you, getting sick at the sight of 'em. You handle so many other crazy things, but one little needle…"

He cleared his throat. Why was this so hard?

"I know you think that you're not handling this well. You think you can't deal with it or that you're not doing the right thing half the time, but...I don't know, Felicity. I am so damn proud of you. Every day you wake up and you fight this and you still smile and you help people and you help the city and-" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I know I can't take credit for that. I know I didn't raise you, and I had nothing to do with how you turned out. But this feeling, this _pride_, it is...you are every bit my daughter as Laurel and Sara are, you understand that? I love you like a daughter and I know the pain of losing a daughter and I will _not_ let you do that to me, okay? I don't give a damn how selfish that sounds. I'm a selfish old man. And I am not going to lose you. Not like this. Not _to_ this. So you just get better in a hurry because...because I can't keep talking to myself," he laughed weakly. "I need the other half of my conversation. I think we all do."

* * *

**JOHN DIGGLE**

"Kind of depressing in here," Dig noted aloud as he closed the door to Felicity's room. The detective had spied him walking in the hall and waved him in. He had told him that he had to use the bathroom and make a few calls, but Dig suspected that he was really just trying to give everyone a chance to sit with Felicity for a bit. His red rimmed eyes told him that he could use a break as well. The doctors' muted optimism was weighing heavily on everyone. They wanted to feel better about her prognosis as time went by, but there was still so many unknowns. Dig had seen a lot of nasty infections during his time in the army, and he knew what could happen if fevers weren't brought down fast enough, or if things festered for too long before receiving treatment. It wasn't something he shared with anyone, just traded knowing looks with Lyla, both aware of all the potential outcomes.

"Oliver's pretty pissed they can't keep you up in the room that he bought for you. I don't blame him, with the amount of money he spent on it. You're gonna hate this room. No view at all, unless you count the window looking into the hallway. Front row seat to Oliver brooding and pacing. He doesn't even take his shirt off, so I know you'd hate it."

This wasn't the first time Dig had done this or something like this. He had spent time with an unconscious friend or comrade before. He had done his share of goodbyes to people. He didn't want this to be a goodbye, though. He didn't want to be here in the first place. He didn't want Felicity Smoak to be sick at all.

He sat down hard in the vacant chair by her side. This was some shit.

"You gotta get better, Felicity," he urged, keeping his eyes steadfastly in front of him. "I know it sucks and I know it's hard but since when has that ever stopped you? You take every challenge head on. You deal with Oliver on a day-to-day basis and that's the biggest challenge of all. Guy is a straight up pain in the ass. But you're good for him. You make him listen, see reason. You make him have to justify his ideas and rationale. Make him realize how stupid some of his ideas and rationale sound when he says it out loud. And we both know that a lot of his ideas sound stupid. That's just how he works.

"I know you probably can't see it, but he's good for you too. Maybe you see it, I don't know. Maybe you just choose to ignore it. You're good at denial like that. But you...you light up around him, you know? You get this glow. And it's weird, because you kind of always glow. You're like this light, this blonde-haired light that just bounces around us. He makes you smile. I don't know how, some days, when his jokes are worse than yours, but he does. The two of you are a real pair."

He smiled at that, remembering when he first noticed the small gestures and looks shared between his two friends. He wasn't even sure they were aware that they were doing it, but he certainly was. A pair indeed.

"When I first signed up for this, when I got involved in Team Arrow or whatever, I wasn't looking for friends. I certainly didn't think Oliver Queen was the type of guy I'd be friends with. I had had enough of his pompous white boy ass about ten minutes into our first meeting. Then I started working with him, and...and it changed, I guess. I never thought we'd do much, I'll be honest. A part of me was looking for the thrill. Same thrill I used to get overseas when I was in the Army. Not the most healthy thing in the world but, you know." He busied himself for a moment, popping a piece of gum in his mouth.

"I told him bringing you on was a stupid idea. I told him every time he asked you for a favor, he was putting you in danger. He was risking your life all because he liked you. Don't you be rolling your eyes over there when I can't see it. He did, he liked you, even in the beginning. You may be the smartest person in this hospital, but you're not the only one who can get files out of a computer, or drug test 'sports drinks.' He kept going back because he liked you. I didn't want him to, I thought he should use a few other people to keep you from getting suspicious. Not that that would've kept you from anything, you're like a pitbull with a bone when it comes to finding things out. His pathetic cover stories didn't help matters either.

"But he liked you. And then I got to know you and I got to like you too. And now we are part of this Team Arrow or whatever Roy insists on calling it to drive Oliver nuts, and it's not about the thrill anymore. We are doing some good in the city and you are a part of that. And so am I. And so is Roy. And it's all thanks to Oliver, and it's all thanks to him never listening to me. He may have brought us together, but you make us a family."

He stood up, finally allowing himself to look at Felicity for the first time since he started speaking.

"You gotta get better, Felicity."

* * *

**LYLA MICHAELS**

"These men really care about you." Lyla busied herself with arranging the silk flowers in a vase on the table where her wig sat. "I hope you don't mind the flowers. Dig mentioned the room being kind of sad earlier, and well, I know you're not allowed to have real flowers, but I spotted these at the Foundry before when Dig and I were trying to make sense of your computer stuff. Argus could definitely use someone like you. Some of your coding is...years above stuff that we have. It's amazing."

She sighed.

"Yeah, so, I hope you don't mind these. I'm always taking initiative, even when it's not appreciated, so I'd understand…" She shook her head, walking to the door. "I know we don't know each other very well, Felicity, but I'd really like the chance. Get better soon."

* * *

**THEA QUEEN**

Thea tiptoed into the room, taking care to shut the door behind her as quietly as possible. The monitors and wires intimidated her. They were everywhere. They were huge. She didn't want to accidentally trip on something and make an alarm go off or hurt Felicity or worse…

She slid into the chair, her wide eyes still taking in everything.

"Hey, Felicity," she whispered. "I know you're sleeping or whatever but…" She laughed at herself, realizing that she had no need to keep her voice down.

"Sorry, I guess I'm not used to this," she told her, her voice at normal volume. "I don't know if I'm supposed to be trying to wake you up or keep you sleeping. I don't even know what I'm doing in here, really, but Roy told me that it would help and I just...well, it can't hurt, right?"

She clucked her tongue, looking around the room before standing up. "I don't know what to say. This is stupid, I'm sorry."

She paced around the small room, trying to think of something, anything to tell her.

"You probably can't even hear me. I don't know much about this. Or, well, I don't know much about anything. To do with this, I mean. I try to avoid hospitals pretty actively, what with all the danger my family seems to get themselves into. Ollie and his motorcycle accidents and me and my _car_ accidents, and...well, I guess if you can't hear me then it doesn't really matter what I say. I could read you the funny pages and you wouldn't care."

She bit her lip before sighing and sitting back in the chair. She saw Roy's face in her mind, urging her to go in and talk to Felicity, insisting it would make her feel better. She didn't want to leave with having said nothing. Even if he wouldn't know, _she_ would, and that was the kind of thing that would eat away at her. She didn't want to disappoint him.

"I know I never really talked about it, but I'm sorry I didn't come visit you sooner. Or like, ever, I guess. When you were in the hospital, I mean. It wasn't personal or anything, I just didn't really know what to do. Or say. Not that I've gotten any better at that, clearly," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't want my first visit to be like this. I wanted you to be awake to see it, for one."

She picked at her nail polish. This wasn't easy, but she had no idea why she thought it might be in the first place.

"Ollie says you're gonna get better. I know he's lied a lot, I'm not an idiot, but I don't think he would lie about this. I know he doesn't control this or anything, but...I don't know. I trust him. Kind of stupid, right? Trusting your brother to tell you that someone else is going to be okay when there's nothing he can do about it either way? I guess...I don't know. I guess that this is just one of those things that you hope for. Or pray, or something. I don't really do that now. You're Jewish, right? I don't even know if you guys pray or not. Seems kind of silly to think about.

"He's going crazy you know. Ollie, not the Jews or whatever. I'm sure Lance or Dig or someone already told you or something, but it's true. He's freaking out. And I have no idea what to do about it. I try to help, but he's not exactly...you know. He doesn't want help. He just wants to be 'The Invincible Oliver Queen' who makes sure everyone _else_ is okay. He's running around doing press conferences and talking to doctors and signing stuff when I think all he wants to do is break down and cry. Which would be totally okay, you know. I think it's good when a man cries."

When she spoke again, her voice was smaller. Not quiet, exactly, but...almost shier, as if she was embarrassed to be sharing so much information.

"Roy cries, you know. Not about everything but...about you. He tries to pretend he doesn't, doesn't want me to see or whatever, but he does. I know he's just scared. Doesn't know what to do. None of us do. See, now I'm crying!" She hastily wiped away her tears. What a mess she was.

"I've never had a friend like you, Felicity. You know, someone who really doesn't care that my last name is Queen, someone who doesn't want anything from me. Someone who sees me as more than 'Oliver Queen's annoying little sister.' I know I wasn't always the nicest in the beginning, but you were never anything but great. And-and you help Roy. And Ollie." Her voice broke, her tears now flowing in earnest. She was now pleading with her, desperate words tumbling out of her lips. "He really needs you, Felicity. I might need you as a friend, but he needs you as a lot more. I lost my dad and my brother, but you brought my brother back to me. It wasn't just him coming home, it was _you_. You made him talk to me more and to laugh more and to come to dinner more and - and I don't want to lose him all over again and I think that's what might happen if you don't get better!"

She took Felicity's hand and laid her sobbing head against it. "I'm so sorry, Felicity. Please get better. Please, please, please…"

A soft hand on her shoulder interrupted her a minute later and she looked up to find Roy looking down on her, his eyes glassy but clear and filled with unspoken questions.

"I have to- I have to use the bathroom," Thea rushed to say before running from the room, door closing behind her.

* * *

**ROY HARPER**

Roy stared at the door, unsure if he was supposed to follow his girlfriend or not. He was still new to this, not having a lot of relationship experience under his belt. He figured what _he_ would want right then is a few minutes alone, so he turned away from the door, content to spend some time with Felicity.

Felicity.

"You don't look so good," he told her. "I know I'm probably not supposed to say that, but it's true. You kind of look like shit."

He took his turn in the chair by her bed, pushing away the visuals of his girlfriend sitting there sobbing just moments before.

"I know, I know, you don't really have a choice in all this. You'd rather be at home, playing X-Box, which, by the way, I think I figured out what we are missing on that last level we've been trying in Lego Superheroes. I've been thinking about it for hours. We could've beaten it by now and been halfway through the other games if you would have just let me look it up online, but I know you consider that cheating, so I didn't. Promise. But it's been driving me crazy, so I think I've got a few things for us to try. As long as you didn't beat it with Oliver already. I'll be pissed if you did and didn't tell me and I've been going nuts thinking about it this whole time."

He fiddled with the slightly frayed edges of his hoodie's sleeves, relinquished by Thea once she had received her own clothes.

"Guess you probably don't want to hear about X-Box, huh? I don't really know what else to say. We kind of talk about all the other stuff all the time. You're like my best friend, kind of. I never really thought that I'd ever be friends with a blonde IT genius, you know, but I guess I never really thought that any of this would ever happen to me. Or you. You probably didn't see this one coming…

"You know, sometimes I think about what would have happened if we knew before. Not before-before, but like, before, when you knew and you didn't tell us. Like, would anything have changed? Would you even be here? Would I? I know it doesn't matter now, but I don't know...I guess I don't think anything really would change. I know you hate the way we all found out, but it was kind of like a band-aid. You just ripped it off really fast to make it not hurt so bad. Well, you didn't plan it much at all, but if you did - that's totally what you would've thought about. I know you."

He looked out the window to the hall and spotted Oliver against the opposite wall, scowling at his feet.

"I think Oliver wants to talk to you. Maybe you can get more out of him than we can. All he has done is growl at everyone all day. We're all just letting him kind of do it, but I bet Detective Lance yells at him soon. Someone needs to." He stood up but didn't move from his position next to her bed.

"I feel like everyone is treating these kind of like goodbyes. But I'm not saying goodbye because that's stupid. You're going to wake up and you're going to get better. Not doing that isn't even an option. I've lost a lot of people in this life but I'm not gonna lose you. So just...no. I'm not saying goodbye. I'll see you later. And you still kind of look like shit, but I love you anyway."

* * *

**OLIVER QUEEN**

Fifteen minutes.

Oliver had been sitting with Felicity for fifteen minutes and had yet to say a word.

He had entered after Roy had left, giving the kid a short nod to signify his thanks. He had been avoiding sitting with her before, unable to get a full grasp on his emotions and not willing to risk falling apart. But then, once he had decided he could see her, it was like a flip had been switched and he found himself just standing outside her room, waiting for Roy to leave.

The first thing he had done was take the chair that everyone had been sitting in and swiftly turn it around so that it was facing Felicity and had its back to the door and window before sinking into it. He didn't know what he was going to say or what he was going to do, but he knew that he wasn't going to have anyone else be privy to it. His time with Felicity was his alone.

And then he sat and waited.

He wasn't even sure what he was waiting for. Her to wake up? It wouldn't happen for another few hours or so at the earliest, according to the doctors. Waiting for words to come? Well, he wasn't sure how long that would take. He might be waiting for a long, long time.

He was waiting for a sign.

A sign that everything would be okay. A sign that things were going to go back to normal, or as normal as they had been three days prior. A sign that he wasn't as completely alone as he felt.

Lance had made a point to mention multiple times throughout the day just how not alone Oliver was, but it was different and he knew it. He could be surrounded by people and still be alone at that moment. It wasn't fair to everyone else, he realized that. Everyone there was struggling with the same thing he was, and he didn't have any right to feel as alone as he did.

"God, this is worse than the island."

The words surprised him. He had been content to sit there, to just watch Felicity's chest rise and fall, even if it was being helped along with a breathing tube. Just the reminder that she was still alive, that she was still with him, was enough. Her hand in his, warm and soft, that was all he needed. He honestly hadn't anticipated talking to her.

"You'd probably call me a Drama Queen if you heard me say that," he acknowledged softly. "But it's true. I would have rather spent ten years on that island than have you go through this. Through any of this."

Another silence encompassed the room, this time less heavy though still immense.

"They said it was a miracle." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but still riotously loud to his ears as it bounced off the walls of her room. "A miracle that I survived the shipwreck. A miracle that I made it on the island. A miracle I made it _off_. But I...those things weren't miracles, not to me. They were just things that happened. I don't really believe in miracles. Calling Lian Yu a miracle is just...absurd. And then I came back, and I started working with Dig, and I started making real progress in the city...and then I met you."

Another minute passed in silence.

"You're my miracle." Once the words came to him, there was no stopping them falling out of his mouth, no getting them back. "And I know I don't deserve another miracle and I have no idea what I did to even get the first one, to get you, because I have…there is just so many things that I've done wrong and the choices I've made...the people I've hurt - I don't deserve you, any part of you, and I have no right to even ask for another miracle, but I just- I need you to get through this. I need you to be okay, Felicity.

"You're the only- some days, you're the only good thing. The only light in this entire place. This entire world. And I can't...I don't want to have to live in this world without that. Without you. You do so much for everyone. Think about Trey, who you're helping discover his passion for electronics. Roy looks up to you like the big sister he never had. Dig is always learning from you, always happy to have you on his side, on his team. You are always taking care of everyone. You take care of Thea. You remind her that she is more than her name, more than what she's done or said in the past. Lance...you probably think he takes care of you, but you do so much for him, Felicity. You've given him another daughter. He can't lose you. None of us can. They need you so much. _Starling City_ needs you." His voice cracked slightly. "_I_ need you."

He brought her hand to his lips, cursing the tears that were welling in his eyes but unable to stop them.

"I need you so _fucking_ much, Felicity Smoak, that I will never forgive you if you leave me. You hear me? I can't do this without you. I can't. I won't. So if you don't want that to happen, then you need to come back to me. You need to open your eyes and yell at me and challenge me and make me feel dumb when you explain computer things to me and make me proud when you hack into federal databases and you need to - you need to be here. Or else all of this, all of me saving the city and stopping the Undertaking...it won't be worth anything. Every time I save the city, I save you. If you're not here, what's left to save? "

Oliver spent the rest of his time with Felicity in silence, wondering if she believed in miracles.


	8. This Guilt Feels So Familiar

**A/N: Oh, Oliver.**

***Occurs mid-chapter 24 of For Blue Skies. I realize I haven't been putting this info up and that is a dumb oversight. If it was easier for me to edit chapters without everyone receiving new notifications/updates, I would go back and edit all of them, but I am pretty sure that's how that works, and I'd hate to flood inboxes. I'll do it all when this story is done though! And I will try to be better about it going forward!**

* * *

"Since when do you care?"

The words ricocheted around his mind, never leaving him, never going far.

If he was honest with himself, he knew she hadn't meant it like it sounded. Felicity was well aware that he cared about her. But she didn't know how much. She didn't know to what extent.

When he practically ran out of the hospital room, it wasn't because he was upset with Felicity, but he was upset with himself. He had let his emotions get the best of him and said things he couldn't take back. He had never meant to let some of those words escape his mouth. But he had.

He was more than upset with himself - he was furious.

He had no right to let loose on her like that. Had no right to put more undo pressure on her just because he was feeling stressed. He knew that it would pass, it always did. He knew that he could get a hold of himself if he just...tried. Or tried harder. Or _something_. He couldn't go off on her like that, not again.

He ran his hands over his face. He had told her about Thea. He had told her about Walter. He was such an idiot.

Last time he was angry at himself and had ran away from Felicity, he had wanted a fight. He had wanted to hit something or someone and he wanted that something to hit back. He had gone to Lance, looking for that fight. He didn't know if he was looking for that same fight now and worse, he didn't know if Lance would even indulge him in that. The man had taken a different role in the past few months if he was being honest with himself, and definitely in the last week or so.

Ever since Felicity had been admitted the man had been more like a father to him than a judgmental ex-girlfriend's father/detective/vigilante-hunter. Well, with a rap sheet like that, he knew that their relationship would never be normal, but Lance had gone above and beyond lately. He had been helpful and kind and had worked with him to guarantee Felicity's safety and happiness, which is all he ever could ask of the man. Of anyone, really.

So that ruled Lance out. And Dig and Roy had just witnessed him blowing up. Thea had enough on her plate. Not to mention, all these people would probably coddle him. They would tell him that it was okay for him to react in such a way. He didn't need that right now. He needed the truth. He needed brutal honesty, whether it hurt or not.

He needed his mother.

* * *

"Oliver? What are you doing here?" Moira Queen was surprised to see her son walking purposefully into the kitchen as she indulged in a late afternoon tea.

"I just needed - I needed to get out of there."

"Out of where, dear?" She put down the paper she had been holding and took in her son's haggard appearance. "Felicity is still in the hospital, is she not?"

"Yeah, she is. She will be there until she finishes her third round of chemotherapy."

"Why are you here? Not that I'm complaining, of course, it's just, I haven't seen you here for more than a few minutes when you grab more clothes for Felicity's place."

"Yes, I know, but…"

"Would you like to talk about it, Oliver?"

She reminded him so much of the younger Moira Queen he had known before the island. The loving, maternal woman who was always willing to listen to his exploits and calmly but rationally explain why he made those decisions or why he felt the way he was feeling. Sometimes she was off the mark and sometimes she was spot-on, but regardless, the conversations always made him feel so much better afterwards. He didn't answer her question, instead choosing to just lean against the kitchen island and start talking.

"I am trying so hard to do the right thing, but I feel like...I feel like I keep messing up."

"With Felicity?"

"With everyone. Thea, Walter, Roy, Dig."

"And Felicity," his mother supplied.

"Well, yeah, and Felicity." He sighed. "I can't tell her half the things that going on and it is building up too fast. Everything is spiraling out of control."

"Everything? Or just one thing?" He cocked his eyebrow. "Seems to me like it is only things with Felicity that are, as you put it, 'spiraling out of control.'"

"What is your problem, mom? Do you really hate Felicity that much? I'm trying to tell you -"

"And I'm trying to tell _you_ that nothing is out of your control, don't you see that? You've spread yourself pretty thin these past few weeks, and it was all going to come to a head at some point. But you're not messing anything up, Oliver. Quite the opposite, in fact."

"How can you say that? I thought you were pissed that I let Walter take over things at QC? And Thea-"

"I may not have understood why you abandoned your post at QC in the beginning, but I do now. And Thea is doing a lot better than you seem to think. _She's_ concerned with _you_, if you can believe it."

He couldn't believe his ears. On some level, he wanted his mother to corroborate his feelings. He thought he could count on her to agree, to say yes, he _was_ screwing a lot of things up. And to tell him to get his life together, to get his _family_ together, and to continue on, business as usual. He hadn't expected, well, anything that had come out of her mouth thus far.

"What are you...I don't think- I…" He spluttered incoherently, much to his mother's amusement.

"You were - _are_ \- scared for Felicity, Oliver. And you're allowed to be."

"Of _course_ I'm scared, mom. But that doesn't excuse the way I'm handling other things in my life."

"What, like reassuring Walter? We may not still be married, but we do still talk on occasion. And him calling me to tell me how proud he is of my son is one such occasion."

"Proud?" He felt like he had been doing such a poor job of helping the man out, the man who was doing so much for him and his family.

"And Thea," she continued without acknowledging his echo, "I know you think that she isn't handling this very well, but the truth is, she understands a lot about this disease. And last weekend drove that home for her, yes. But she looks up to you for more than just strength. You keeping this facade up all the time isn't helping. She needs to know that it's okay to break down sometimes."

"Well, she just has to wait," he muttered. He felt the fissures and cracks begin, deep within him. Had today started the inevitable?

"You love Felicity."

He looked up sharply at that. He felt it best if he didn't say anything - not affirmative or negative - until she spoke more. He wasn't willing to give away anything at that moment.

"What? You do. You love Felicity, and you are scared for her, and you're doing what scared people do, which is lash out and look for other things to blame for their feelings. Hiding things from her, even if you know you shouldn't."

"It's complicated," he ground out.

Moira Queen smiled at that.

"I have no doubt it is more than a little complicated, dear. But you must not think much of her if this is how you're acting."

"Think...much? Why would you even suggest that?"

Of all the people in Starling City, hell, in the entire world, there was no one Oliver thought higher than Felicity. Even before she was going through this hell, she was strong, fierce, and a force to be reckoned with. Capable of so much more than she knew, Oliver had respected Felicity for a long time, and that had only been solidified in the past weeks.

"From everything you and other people have told me, Felicity is more than capable of managing both her life _and_ your's. Why you suddenly feel as if she can't handle hearing a few things that may not be pleasant is beyond me."

Oliver felt the frustration course through his body. Of all the things he anticipated his mother saying - and they had really, truly run the gamut - this had never been a contender. He understood what she was saying logically but...but it wasn't that simple! Him holding things back from Felicity wasn't about undermining her strength and abilities, but it was to protect her. She was going through so much right now, it was his job to shelter her. To keep her safe. It was all he could do at this point.

"Oliver...Oliver?" He wasn't sure how long his mother had been calling his name but from the look of pure annoyance on her face, it had been longer than ideal. "Listen, it is as simple as this: do you think Felicity would be happy with you keeping things from her just to prevent her from getting upset?"

"No." At least that much he knew. That was a given.

"And I know that you would feel better being able to get this off your chest. I know I couldn't have been your first choice to come and speak to regarding this."

Well, she had, but not necessarily for great reasons, so Oliver wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Talk to the girl, Oliver. You'll feel better, she'll feel better, and I can guarantee that everyone around you will feel better. I know...I know that I haven't been the most accepting of Felicity, but that has nothing to do with who she is as a person, you know that, right? And I certainly don't _hate_ her. But my job first and foremost is to protect you."

"You don't need to protect me from Felicity," he scoffed. The idea was so absurd to him that he almost laughed aloud.

"Oliver...your feelings for the girl, should something happen - I know that you are doing everything in your power to make sure that they don't, but if this past week has shown us anything, it is that we can't control the universe. Sometimes things happen that we can't stop or fix."

"Your point?"

"No point," she shrugged elegantly, her fingers flipping the page on the forgotten newspaper in front of her. "I know now that I cannot protect you from something you don't deem dangerous." She finally picked up the paper, resuming her reading. "Go talk to the girl, Oliver. Tell her what's been on your mind. You'll feel better for it and so will she."

Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Oliver left the kitchen and let his feet carry him elsewhere while his mind wandered. He shouldn't have been surprised when he found himself standing in front of his father's grave.

He didn't necessarily want to talk to his father. He didn't particularly believe in the idea that people who had passed on could listen in when spoken to, but he did understand how cathartic talking to someone you love could be. It was different than when he had spoken to Felicity when she was unconscious - her body had been right in front of him, for one, and she was still breathing. She was still real. So no, right now, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts that were now reeling thanks to his mother, and there was no place else in all of Starling City that was as peaceful and calm as Robert Queen's empty grave.

He knew she was right to tell him to talk to Felicity. He had known that before walking into his childhood home. He had never considered his reticence to be insulting to Felicity though, and that concept was whirling around in his brain. Everything he did, everything he said, was because he respected Felicity. Respected her as a person, respected her fight against this horrid disease. None of it stemmed from any sort of ill feeling towards her and yet, his mother did make a few good points.

When he had gotten her involved in Arrow business, he had no hesitation to involve her in things that were bigger than her. Things that could hurt her, or kill her, or change her entire perspective on the world. Everything he held back in regards to that was because he simply wasn't ready to share, or didn't know how. Now, this information that he chose to keep inside might hurt her a little, yes, but it held no bigger threat. And he wasn't withholding it because he wasn't ready to tell her, but because he thought she might not be able to handle it. He was trying to protect her, but his motives, his reasoning - what good was protecting her when it was undermining who she was? What good was sheltering her when it only made him feel worse inside?

He couldn't unthink those words, those ideas that his mother had planted inside of him.

He held his palms to his eyes, trying to stop his mind from repeating them, his eyes from seeing them over and over again, but it was no use. He _had_ been undermining who Felicity was a person every time he chose to hold something back and deal with it himself. He hadn't mentioned the trouble Walter was having not because it could potentially hurt her, but because he wasn't sure if her mind would be able to process both that and the mental strain of undergoing another chemotherapy round. He didn't bring up the issue of her mother not knowing, an issue that had no other resolution _but_ to be talked about, because he didn't want to see her shut down emotionally like she had a tendency to do when her mom was brought up.

He had been an utter and complete idiot and he didn't know what to do.

Did he go back to the hospital and lay it all on the line? Did he draft an e-mail and send it to her, business-like, trying to take the emotional aspect out of it completely? His complete and utter lack of preparation for this moment told him that returning to the hospital at that moment wasn't a great idea. If he could barely iterate the words in his head, he didn't think he'd fare much better in person with Felicity. No, he needed time to get his head around this.

He slumped against his father's headstone.

All the emotions from the past few hours left his body in an exodus and he felt so damn drained suddenly. He thought if he had a little bit more left in him that this would be the moment that he cried for the last week. That right here and right now, in the haze of an autumn afternoon, with privacy that could only be offered by the dead, that this would be the time that it all just came out. He hadn't truly cried since the night he first discovered her diagnosis, although there had been several close calls since then, but never the opportunity. He would not let himself cry in front of anyone, despite how archaic it sounded. He had never been prone to visceral reactions before, but of course, the one person that could always change Oliver was Felicity, and this was no exception.

He drew his knees up to his chest and let his head fall atop them, letting out a deep, long, shuddering breath.

Later. He would go to Felicity later. Right now, he needed to be by himself.

* * *

**Up next - talks between SO MANY PEOPLE.**


	9. I Won't Let This Get Me

**A/N: ****Short little bit of Laurel and Oliver's interaction. This is BEFORE Laurel knows about Felicity's cancer so don't hate her too much, mmkay?**

**This takes place between chapters 25 &amp; 26 of For Blue Skies**

* * *

"Ollie!"

Oliver didn't have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, so he chose not to, opting instead to continue giving his order. "Could I get maybe...a quart?"

"Oliver," Laurel stepped into his peripheral vision. "I've been trying to call you for the past like, two weeks."

"I've been busy." He still didn't deign to look at her. "Let's make it two quarts. And another quart of the chicken spaetzle. That's not like, tomato based, right? Just chicken broth?"

He hadn't expected to run into Laurel Lance at the small soup and sandwich place near QC, but he did know that her offices were around the corner. He was on a mission to find soft, easy-to-eat food for Felicity, especially since she had exhausted just about all of the options in the hospital cafeteria that met that criteria. What little research he had done online suggested a few hearty soups, so long as they weren't too acidic, like tomato ones, and he had finally tracked down a place in Starling City that made a delicious broccoli cheddar one. It wasn't acidic and was high enough in calories that he thought even if Felicity didn't eat a lot of it, it was still doing it's job.

"I've called you a million times."

He finally looked down at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Generally, when someone doesn't return your calls, it means that they don't want to talk to you."

"Oo...kay. I guess. But I just - I saw you on TV. I wanted to see how Felicity was doing."

He felt his eyebrows raise, but focused on the cashier in front of him.

"Since when do you care about Felicity?" He unfolded a few bills and gave them to the waiting salesperson.

"Since...well, she's important to you. And Sara. And my dad, apparently," she muttered under her breath, but he still heard every word. "So I thought I would just...ask."

"Thanks, man," he nodded his gratitude and took the plastic bag being handed to him. "I have to go, Laurel."

"Wait!" She followed him out of the shop and onto the street, reminiscent of her last confrontation regarding Felicity.

"Why? You don't like Felicity, Laurel. You don't care how she is and you certainly don't care that she is important to me, so why should I wait?" He was getting frustrated now.

"It's not that I don't like her, it's just...I just think that what she's doing to you and my dad is wrong! I mean, did she even tell you that I caught the two of them together?"

"'Caught' them? Do you -" He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He wasn't about to blurt out Felicity's secret because of his inability to deal with Laurel Lance. "They weren't doing anything wrong, Laurel. Yes, she told me she saw you, and she told me what you said. Which brings me back to the fact that I know you don't care about how she's doing, so why are you here?"

She sighed. "My dad won't return my calls."

"I am not playing mediator between you and your father. If he doesn't want to talk to you, that's his choice."

"Fine, then let me talk to Felicity."

"_Let you talk to Felicity?_" He could hardly believe what he was hearing. It wasn't the worst idea he had ever heard, but it was up there. "Why on earth would I let you do that? She's still in the _hospital_, Laurel. She's recovering. And just like me and apparently your father, I am sure she doesn't want to talk to you."

"If I could just _explain_ things, or have her just tell me what is going on, then maybe I could understand! Maybe I could make things right with my dad!"

"Your dad. Who you think is sleeping with Felicity."

He knew that he had laughed when she had first told him what Laurel had accused her and Detective Lance of doing, but being confronted with it, face to face, it was a lot less humorous. It rankled him on numerous levels, from witnessing the father-daughter relationship they shared to the fact that Felicity was _Oliver's_. She wasn't sleeping with anyone, but if she was, it would be him.

"I don't know what to think. That's why I need to talk to her."

"What you need to do is go home, or go back to work, or go wherever. I need to go to the hospital."

"Take me with you!"

"No, Laurel! You think you know this situation, but you have _no _idea what you're doing. What you're interfering with."

"Like hell!" She whipped her hair out of her face as the wind blew around them maddeningly. "I know that something is going on and I know that none of you will tell me what it is!"

He put his hands on her shoulders, stilling her wild hand movements.

"For the first time in this entire conversation, you are right. There is something going on and we won't tell you what it is. So you need to let it go, do you hear me? I'm not going to have this conversation with you again."

His voice had gotten dangerously close to Arrow-territory, but he was desperate to make her see the direness of the situation. The last thing Felicity needed as she recuperated from her third round of chemotherapy was Laurel Lance sticking her nose into business that wasn't her's. Despite the tone, he knew there was a good chance this wasn't the last time he was going to have to deal with her. He knew Laurel, and he knew that she rarely gave things up without a fight, especially secrets that involved her family and those closest to her.

"_Ollie_."

Her voice was pleading and sincere and in another life, Oliver knew that it would have broken him right then and there, and he would be telling her everything she needed to know. But he wasn't that person anymore.

"Her soup's getting cold."

And with that, he walked away, leaving Laurel Lance on the sidewalk in front of a cafe, a position that was becoming eerily familiar to her.


	10. I Could Use A Little Break

**A/N: I'm not even going to pretend that this isn't fluff. Sometimes we all need to read/write/lose ourselves in a bit of fluff though, so deal with it. ;)**

**Distinct lack of Sara because I had originally written this for earlier in the story. I ended up scrapping it then but I couldn't bear to get rid of it entirely, so I just tweaked a few things. But don't worry, Sara lovers - she has quite a role in the next few chapters!**

**This chapter takes place _mid-chapter 30 of For Blue Skies_**

* * *

He had been up for hours thanks to his early morning meeting with Denmark, and he wasn't sure what to do now. The benefits of a meeting that early was it requiring very little in the way of getting ready - he sat there in his suit and tie and boxers, nodding along sleepily with the head of operations over there. Granted, he had almost gotten up twice for coffee but he had refrained at the last moment, therefore saving his dignity to live another day.

Afterwards, he couldn't get back to sleep on the couch so he grabbed the closest XBox controller to him and powered on the system, switching out the game discs. He had never really anticipated how the gaming console would change his life, which, he realized, sounded absurd. He had bought it on a whim, hurting at the idea of Felicity being bored and held captive in her own house, and, in the words of Roy, willing to 'throw money at it.'

There was no way he could have known how much Felicity would enjoy playing games with him, and how much he enjoyed it as well. The games were just that - games, mindless distractions from the real world, but it turned out that's exactly what the two of them needed. But the delight Felicity experienced with it was the real draw. She loved the silly stories in the Lego games, laughing along with it and frequently slapping his leg to get him to pay attention and enjoy just like she did. She also sat closer to him, her thigh pressed tightly to his, her elbows jostling him as she got way too into the game, moving the controller as if it were able to read the motions in her arms. It was just the perfect escape from their too-often depressing reality.

He hadn't played video games since before the island and even then it hadn't been very often, despite having all the newest consoles. He had been more interested in going out and causing trouble in the physical world, not virtually. He had found this game in his quest for something to do when Felicity napped for longer than he had thought she would, and he didn't have any QC work to do (a bonus and a drawback from having the more-than-competent Walter Steele in his stead). He had stayed away from any 'shoot 'em up' games, mostly because he didn't relish shooting bodies nowadays, with actual faces staring at him in his sleep. He tried a war game just once before shutting it off abruptly in the middle of the opening scene. He had enough nightmares, thanks, he didn't need any help from a video game.

This game was aliens, which was a welcome change from humans. He found himself able to separate out the game from reality and he kind of enjoyed the mechanical ease of it. Point and shoot was a thing he was more than capable of in real life, and the cartoonish aliens on the screen in front of him posed no actual threat, offering him a great escape.

Which was why he was more than surprised when Felicity suddenly appeared in the hallway. How long had he been playing? A quick glance at the clock told him she had risen earlier than he had expected, and she was so damn cute in a pair of his baggy basketball shorts that she had pilfered from him and a tank top with a zip-up hoodie over it. She almost looked like she was gearing up to go to a game.

He rushed to reassure her that he wasn't playing _their_ game, although when it became 'theirs' he wasn't quite sure, but he did know that it wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable without her next to him. ("_Break it faster, Oliver! I'm going to kill you if you don't help me!"_)

He wasn't really looking forward to the talk they were going to have about Stephanie Cassidy and the picture situation, but he knew it was inevitable and needed to be said. Especially since Dig had suggested that she was going out to eat with Lance the night before in an effort to get some space between the two of them. Sometimes she needed space, he was well aware of that, but space because of a disagreement they had was wildly different from space from him always hovering.

He let her begin explaining her feelings as he cut fruit in front him, viciously stabbing the papaya and scooping out the seeds with unnecessary vigor. He didn't know this Stephanie woman from Eve and more often than not, Felicity's judgment in people was sound (save for himself, probably).

He almost forgot he had gotten her a few treats from the bakery down the street until he was placing the fruit in a bowl. Fruits and vegetables were even more important in her diet than they were before, and he was briefly lamenting his lack of a balanced meal when he remembered the carrot cake cupcake. It was better than nothing. And the smile she gave him when he placed them down in front of her was better than anything.

"Oh, that reminds me! Plastic cutlery!"

Just because she had started to undergo treatment didn't mean that there wasn't plenty left to learn about cancer. Oliver still found himself reading blogs and medical journals in his spare time (when he wasn't playing video games, apparently) and he was determined to never let Felicity want for anything. So when he read that plastic cutlery helped curb some of the strange tastes that chemotherapy caused, he had then done research on which brands were the best, before buying some very heavy-duty plastic utensils. He had no shame in admitting how proud he was of that. This was something he could give to Felicity and have her appreciate, right then and there. It was something tangible. It was something.

Then she moaned a little bit around the cupcake's frosting on the fork and he felt his pride begin to mix with more than a little lust. He quickly became aware of the thin pajamas pants he was currently clad in and quickly sat down across from her.

He listened patiently as Felicity continued to explain her case for not going after Stephanie Cassidy. He silently conceded defeat when she mentioned not wanting to punish the woman's daughter, Casey, for the actions of the mother. She hadn't meant for it to be a low blow, just a fact, but he still felt it all the way to his gut. He wouldn't do that to the daughter. He couldn't.

But that still didn't change the fact that he didn't know this woman and he didn't think it was wise to continue to talk to her. In any capacity.

He should have known that Felicity wasn't going to go for that.

"You're going to tell me who I can and can't talk to now?" Her voice was light, conversational, which meant the question was anything but. He swallowed back his instant response of 'yes.'

It wasn't that he wanted to control her; he just wanted to protect her. As always.

She agreed to watch what she said in front of her, which he knew was all he was going to get at that current moment, so he decided to divert the conversation into less hazardous waters, like their plans for the day.

That day was somewhat of an anomaly. He had no other QC work to do, the weather was unseasonably warm, and Felicity was feeling good. It made the fact that she was going to check in to the hospital the next day all the more bitter tasting, but he was determined to capitalize on their good fortune, even if it was only temporary.

Considering how much he knew about Felicity's rambles, he wasn't entirely sure why he was so surprised when her mouth led them down a path of awkwardness that early.

One second she was teasing him about mini-golf (he would have done it, yes, but he would not have been happy about it) and the next she was haphazardly accusing him of loving her. It was a joke, sure, but not to him. Not to _them_. After all, what else could explain how much time and effort and care he was putting towards her? It might not have been spoken, but it was obvious to everyone that Oliver Queen loved Felicity Smoak. How much and what kind of love that was were the million dollar questions, but the fact remained.

What he hadn't counted on was it getting even _more_ awkward with her suddenly mentioning how naked and wet she would be, just a thin wall away. As if he hadn't had _that_ thought process once or seven million times since moving in with her. When it looked like she was going to elaborate, he had to cut her off. He could only take so much.

His shower, still surrounded by the steam and lilac-scented bodywash of her own, was decidedly cold.

* * *

He had come up with a few options for their day together, but one in particular excited him. Felicity loved a good glass of wine, but she so rarely got to try different ones. He knew of a winery outside city limits that he had been to a few times, and was hoping with the strange time of day it was that he could snag them reservations for a tasting that afternoon. After securing those, he decided to take it up another notch.

"Diggle."

"You said Lyla was in town this week, right?" Oliver didn't bother with a greeting, knowing the man didn't take it personally.

"Yes. Why? Is Felicity okay?"

"She's fine. She's good, actually, which is why I was wondering if you wanted to come out to eat for an early dinner tonight. You and Lyla. We're spending the day at Vino Costa winery, and they have an excellent restaurant."

"A winery? Do you two need a driver?"

"How about I just try not to get trashed at 2pm. Asking you as a friend, not a driver."

Dig gave a laugh at that and the smile was evident in his voice when he replied. "Dinner sounds good, man. Just let us know when and where. I'm glad she's feeling up for it."

"Okay, I'll shoot you a text later. Thanks."

"Don't thank me, I'm just going because you're definitely paying."

He rolled his eyes but disconnected, dialing the next person on his list. In a move that shocked no one, Thea also agreed to meet them out for dinner with Roy in tow. What _did_ surprise Oliver was Sara's refusal.

"Are you sure? Its just going to be a few of us. If you're worried about being the odd man out-"

"Odd _woman_ out, and no, that's not it, Ollie," she explained to him calmly. "I've got to deal with some...I have to talk to Nyssa, and unfortunately, I think that's going to take more than a little time."

"Everything okay?"

"Just let her have this, okay? A nice day with her friends. Give her a break from the Lance family charm. And try not to mention anything with Nyssa, if you could."

Not wanting to fight with her, he reluctantly agreed. "If you change your mind, you know where we'll be. Dinner will probably be around 5."

"Have fun," she told him softly before disconnecting.

When Oliver told Felicity as she was getting ready in the bathroom, excitement lit up her face before she bit her lip, causing his heart to plummet. Did she not want to? It was going to be really relaxed and low-key, but maybe she wanted to do something more exciting on her last day before chemo round 4?

"It's outside of the city, you said?" She had never gone to Vino Costa, despite wanting to for the last few years. "And it'll probably be pretty dead, right? It is a Thursday afternoon in October."

"I doubt there will be that many people, no. And they are very discreet there; my mother hosts some of her 'girls weekends' there, or at least she did. They have never been anything but private."

"Do you think it'd be okay if...I mean, I'd understand if you didn't want me to, but - do you think it'd be okay if I didn't wear my wig today?"

He let out a huge breath of air. _That's_ what she had been worried about?

"I'd wear a hat, obviously." She took his silence as hesitance. "And lots of sunscreen, too. I'd be careful. It's just with the thinning out of my hair, I keep losing more of it every time I put my wig cap on because it's so tight, so I thought maybe - you know what, it's stupid. I'll just wear the wig, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable-"

"No, Felicity. Of course you don't have to wear your wig if you don't want to. And don't feel like you have to wear a hat on anyone else's account, either. You wear what you want to wear. You'll look perfect either way."

"Well, the hat is more for sun protection than anyone else's comfort, but if you're sure…"

"I am."

She wore tight black leggings and a large, oversized shirt that paired perfectly with the floppy sunhat she had chosen to cover her head. With the addition of flat black, slouchy boots, she actually looked more fashionably chic than she had anticipated.

"You good?"

"Yeah," she told him after she swigged down the last of her morning medication. "Let's go!"

* * *

She had expected to feel uncomfortable without her wig on, since it had been her security blanket for the last few weeks, but she felt oddly good. Oliver didn't look at her differently, having long since gotten used to her impending baldness, and the staff at the winery barely spared her a glance. She wondered if they honestly thought that she had cancer or if she was just trying out an edgy hairstyle. She decided that it ultimately didn't matter - she was there to have a good time, and that's what she would do, wig or no wig.

First thing they got the opportunity to do was to go on a small tour of the winery's cellar, walking around all the barrels and the learning about the process of how they made their wines.

Oliver watched as Felicity soaked up all the knowledge that was fed to her, her attention rapt and undivided to whoever was speaking at that time.

"What?" She finally asked as she caught him staring for the fifth time.

"Nothing. Its nice to see you enjoying yourself."

"And we haven't even gotten to the wine _tasting_ part!"

He acted on pure instinct next, having no underlying reason or need to do what he did next, but he slung an arm over her shoulder and gathered her close as they moseyed through the barrels and rooms. Felicity didn't move away or question it verbally, choosing to just tip her head up and give him a brilliant smile.

He kept his arm around her until they were led back upstairs and onto an outside porch. With the weather being so nice and the table being directly in the sun, Oliver felt confident that Felicity would be okay outside for so long, and if not, he always kept an extra jacket in the car for her, or they could go back inside.

The sommelier told them that he'd return shortly with their first tasting menu and in the silence, Felicity stretched out, temporarily removing her hat and feeling the sun shine down on her body. It felt so good to be out and about and she didn't even have the first tendrils of fatigue curling around her body. She felt, honest to goodness, _great_. So great that she forgot, even if it was just for a few brief moments, that she had cancer at all.

"This is so nice," she whispered, her eyes closed.

"Yeah, it really is." He watched her, affection running thick through his blood. When she was like this, it was so hard to remember why he wasn't doing all he could to make her his. Not that she wouldn't object - _hard_ \- to being referred to as something a person could own, but that was besides the point.

"You come here a lot?" She finally sat back up straighter, choosing to leave the hat off just a little while longer. "Hot date spot?"

"Ah, not exactly. I haven't been here since I've been back from the island, and before, it was mostly with my mother."

"You tagged along on girls weekends?" She laughed at the imagery but didn't entirely discount it.

"No, she would take me here when she thought the city was...getting to me. Overwhelming me, I guess."

"Did it help?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes, I just drank a lot of wine," he confided.

"Shocker."

They were interrupted with a waiter bringing them a tasting flight, with the sommelier trailing behind, ready to experience it with them.

Felicity couldn't even give the illusion that she wasn't excited. She had done a few wine tastings with her friends in college, but never a legitimate one with this much pomp and circumstance. The glasses were black for them to drink out of, not giving away the color of the wine, and the sommelier was certainly more knowledgeable than Amy, her second year roommate with a penchant for ports.

They went through the motions for the first glass, swirling it, sniffing it, but before drinking, Oliver held out his glass to cheers with her.

"To today," he told her. He couldn't promise her tomorrow or the next day, or even what the next year would bring, but they had right then, that moment, that day.

"To today."

She clinked glasses with him softly before sipping delicately, then letting out a fairly loud moan.

"Oh my god, this is the best day of my life."

* * *

They did three flights of wine, and Felicity was feeling the effects by four thirty. They had munched on some oyster crackers throughout the day, but it wasn't substantial, and she knew she had to get some food in her soon.

"I'm kiiiiind of hungry," she confided.

"Really?" He didn't bother to pretend that he wasn't excited by that. It was such a rare declaration from her these days, with most meals being preempted by him or another friend, and Felicity having no taste for anything.

"Yup." She popped the 'p' at the end of the word, smiling saucily. "Feed me?"

While most often he would assume she was completely oblivious to the innuendos that laced her words, the sparkle in her eyes told him that perhaps she wasn't that oblivious after all.

"Well, I guess we can go get a table inside. It's almost time for our reservation."

"We have a reservation? You planned this?" She stood up and swayed slightly and Oliver stood just as quickly, having her grab onto his bicep and the front of his shirt.

"Whoa," she breathed, her eyes locking with his. Just when she was about the take the plunge, to stand on her tiptoes and press her lips to his with the excuse of the wine readily available should he not be interested - but he was pretty damn interested as far as she could tell - a voice interrupted them.

"Tell me you guys left some wine for us!"

Oliver reluctantly broke his gaze with Felicity, trying not to be too frustrated with his sister and Roy as they took the last step up to the patio they were on, making their way closer.

"Hi Thea, Roy," he greeted.

"What are you guys doing here!" A combination of the wine and the emotions had her brain working slower than normally, and Felicity was a little confused as to why Roy and Thea had suddenly appeared.

"We're here for dinner. Are we that early? Roy drives like a maniac."

"You're eating dinner with us?! Oliver invited you?" Felicity whipped around in his arms and reached up and hugged Oliver tightly around the neck. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

Her hug surprised him enough that it cut off his remark to Roy about proper driving etiquette when his little sister was in the car, but he did send a dark glare to the boy who looked sufficiently chastised.

"I knew I recognized that car that cut us off on the interstate!" Dig and Lyla suddenly appeared behind Thea and Roy and Felicity could've sworn her heart was going to burst.

Oliver watched happily as she made her way around the group, hugging everyone tightly and expressing her gratitude that they came out with her.

"Has your entire party arrived, sir?" A waiter popped out of a nearby door that led to the inner restaurant and he nodded, motioning for the others to go ahead of him and follow the staff to their table. Felicity sidled up next to him, linking her arm with his and clasping tightly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"No, I'm serious."

"And am I not?"

"I just mean - this is perfect. You're perfect. Thank you."

And while it wasn't exactly what she had planned on doing earlier, they both still felt the same glow of satisfaction as she leaned up and impulsively planted a kiss on his cheek before pulling him to get to their table faster.

* * *

Oliver wasn't much of a storyteller but if it got Felicity to laugh as hard as she currently was, he would devote hours to it if he had to.

"I'm serious! She was maybe 8, and drunk off her ass. I guess we shouldn't have been surprised when she turned into a bit of a wild child later on."

Thea stuck her tongue out at Oliver, but she too was laughing hard at that.

"I was 8! I really thought it was grape juice! And I wanted to be just like my mom, so I drank two glasses. Guess I was a bit of a lightweight."

"I think that's a pretty impressive amount for an 8 year old," Roy disagreed, kissing the side of her head.

"We will not be calling wine 'grape juice' around our kid," Lyla told Dig through her giggles. "We can calmly explain that wine is just an adult drink."

Oliver felt his eyebrows raise into his hairline and even Roy looked a bit shocked. He trusted the women at the table to pick up the slack and he wasn't disappointed.

"Kid? Are you two - is there something we should know?" In her excitement, Felicity's hand found Oliver's thigh, and he took advantage of the opportunity to thread his fingers with her's.

"No, no, no," Dig reassured. "Not...yet."

"Not yet?" Thea piped up. "As in maybe someday soon?"

"I don't know," Lyla blushed but couldn't keep the grin off of her face. "We're just...not trying to _not_, you know? Whatever happens, happens."

Oliver locked eyes with Felicity, who was gripping his hand alarmingly tight, but her face held nothing but joy. She beamed at him and he couldn't help but to return it, giving Dig a nod as well. He was truly happy for his friend. After all, the shared value of the importance of family was what brought them all there together that night, sharing a few bottles of wine over some good food. He watched as Dig's eyes knowingly went to where his own hand was still clasped with Felicity's under the table, but he just gave his friend a small eye roll.

The topic shifted quickly with Lyla uncomfortable with all the attention, but his hand didn't leave Felicity's until the end of the meal. And even that seemed a bit too soon for him.


	11. I'm Against The Wall

**A/N: Hi all! Hope you enjoy this next segment of For Darker Days! I go on vacation with my family to the Outer Banks on Sunday, so again - while I don't anticipate any posting delays, just know that sometimes life catches up with me/I drink a lot of wine and that could result in a day or so delay. I still have so much of this story to tell! Can't wait for you to read everything that is coming.**

**As for this chapter, well - it's heavy.**

**This takes place mid chapter 31 of _For Blue Skies_**

* * *

"Please? Now?"

He had no choice but to silently reach over and open the top drawer on her nightstand, grabbing a pair of earplugs from the jar inside. She held her hand out, waiting, but he couldn't just...he didn't want to leave it like that. With her thinking that he didn't care, that he was eager to go back to the others and leave her. So he did the only thing he could think of, which was to take each foamy earplug between his palms and roll it tightly and gently insert them into her ears. He thought maybe she'd appreciate the gesture, to see the words behind it, but when he saw her shoulders jerk up with the unmistakable sound of her breath catching, he felt his heart sink. She was crying.

He dejectedly rolled his chair back to the table, where the others were watching with all-seeing eyes.

"She okay?" Lance asked first, jerking his head towards Felicity's body which was doing a horrible job of hiding the fact that she was crying.

"Second day usually isn't this rough but...but maybe it was a mistake having everyone here at once."

"Ah." Sara was the first one to understand exactly what the issue was.

"Are we really being that loud?" Roy asked, confused. He thought they were doing a good job keeping quiet, their voices rarely going above a whisper.

"No, no, it's not that it's - I think she's upset that she can't be over here with us."

"Oh." Roy looked so sad in that moment, Oliver actually saw the 'kicked puppy' look that Felicity had accused the kid of having. "I wish she felt better."

"Me too. I think everyone talking and laughing it's just...really driving home how sick she is in comparison to us."

"Plus," Sara added, "I know this is my first time here during all this but...I assume you all don't usually sit around a table and talk without her."

"She's right," Diggle nodded. "We all come here to support Felicity and we're pretty much just ignoring her today."

"But what can we do?" Roy looked physically pained at the idea of not helping the girl he looked up to like a big sister.

"There's not much we can do today, until she starts feeling better," Oliver told him regretfully.

"What we _can _do," Lance stood, clapping Roy on the shoulder, "is not make her feel left out in her own hospital room."

Roy looked to Oliver for confirmation, who only offered him a single nod. He hated this, hated sending everyone home when they were just trying to do the right thing, but it was the best thing at that moment for Felicity, so he had to.

"See you tomorrow then." Diggle stood as well, casting a look at Felicity, but not willing to disturb the girl. "Take care of her."

"I second that," Lance growled. "Sara, you coming?"

"I'm gonna - if Ollie doesn't mind, I just - can I stay a bit longer? We don't have to talk or anything."

"Sure." He sensed that this was just as much as for Sara as it was for Felicity, and he wouldn't mind the company while Felicity slept and he thought of every wrong move he had made that day.

And they were in silence, for the most part. For the first hour or so, Sara sat quietly on the couch as Oliver moved about the room, looking completely comfortable in the foreign surroundings. He focused on tidying up, gathering up stray magazines that had ended up around the room, unnecessarily sanitizing everything that someone could have touched, things of that nature. Finally, when he was about to take a sanitizing wipe to the table _again_, Sara spoke up.

"I'm pretty sure that's the cleanest table in the hospital, Ollie."

He stopped in his tracks, looking abashed. Yeah, he definitely didn't need to wipe that down for the fifth time.

He took a seat next to Sara on the couch, both of them staring across the room at Felicity, who had finally fallen asleep.

"She's mad at me," he told her quietly. It had been a long time since he had talked so candidly about his feelings, but he and Sara did share a bond unlike any other.

"No, she's not."

"You didn't hear her. She's never - she's never turned away from me like that."

"Felicity Smoak has never been mad at you, Ollie, and I don't think she'd start now. She's been frustrated, or annoyed, or confused by you, but never mad."

"I'd be mad at me."

"Well, you're an idiot."

"_Hey_!"

"I'm just saying. She's smarter than that. She's better than us. All of us."

"You're not wrong." He sighed, resting his head in his hands. "I am an idiot. I bring all these people here and then I - I _ignore_ her? Who does that?"

"You didn't _ignore_ her. But I think you were right, before. She has to see all of her healthy friends together, talking, while she feels like crap nearby, too sick to even participate. That can't feel good." She paused, wondering if this was the right time for her next question, but plunged ahead, true Sara-style. "What are you two doing?"

He didn't even pretend to not know what she was referring to.

"I don't know. She...she lets me in sometimes, lets all of it in, she _pulls_ me in, and then - I don't know. Something happens. It's like she remembers something that I don't, and pulls back. Short of me professing my undying love to her, I'm running out of ideas."

"Well that way sounds promising."

"_Sara_."

"Sorry, I know. But why don't you just tell her how you feel? It's obvious to everyone, and even she is a little aware of it, if not completely."

"It's not...I don't want her to always wonder if I said things out of pity, or fear. Besides, she's got so much on her plate right now, sometimes I think its for the best if we just keep going like this."

"Yeah, seems like it's really working out for everyone."

He rolled his eyes and stood, effectively ending the conversation. He pulled out his wallet, peeling back a few bills before offering them to Sara.

"Why don't you go get us something to eat? If you don't want something from the cafeteria, there's a salad shop across the street that's pretty good. The smell shouldn't wake her, either."

"No problem. And are you sure you don't mind me being here?"

He smirked sadly. "There's a chance she'll want to see you more than me when she wakes up." Sensing that she was about to make a comment in an effort to cheer him up, he shook his head. "It's fine. Go."

"I'll even sleep in the chair tonight if you want the co-"

"No!" His eyes darted quickly to the bed to see if his sharp tone had woken Felicity up, but her chest still rose rhythmically. "Couch is all yours. I sleep in the chair."

"On purpose?"

"Grilled chicken on my salad."

And that was that.

* * *

Oliver shifted for the millionth time in the reclined chair next to Felicity's bed and he was acutely aware of Sara being conscious as well, although she remained silent. Felicity was tossing and turning almost constantly, even muttering every now and then, and while he knew this was probably more psychological than physiological, he was still on high alert. Which was why he wasn't entirely surprised when she barely lifted her head off the side of the bed and got sick on the floor.

He was instantly in motion, grabbing the kidney dish next to him and easing her up into a sitting position, the dish in her hands now, knowing that she had an easier time breathing when she was sitting straight up versus lying down.

He leaned back with one hand, keeping his other on Felicity at all times, and grabbed a pair of double-strength latex gloves out of the box, using his teeth to help him pull them on. He leaned around her back and found the call button for nurses, hitting it twice in quick succession to signify that he needed immediate assistance. They were prompt as ever and took in the scene before them with stoic professionalism, spurred into action quickly.

He just focused on rubbing her back soothingly, like his mother used to do for him when he was a small child and getting sick. He didn't think it helped much physically, but he remembered the first time he had gotten ill on the island and how badly he wanted his mother there with him then, her hand on his back, her presence calming. He was trying to offer that same emotional reassurance to Felicity now. As she turned and cried into him, he realized that he clearly wasn't doing that great of a job at that if she hadn't stopped crying since he began.

He did the only thing he knew how to at that moment, which was to hold her tight and whisper to her, trying to keep her from getting too worked up.

It hurt him to see her like this. He was already battling his emotions from when she first latched on to him, and then when she opened her mouth...god. It chipped away at his very soul to hear the defeated words coming out of her.

"I'm so sorry...I don't want any of this. I just want to stop being sick! I don't want to feel like this anymore! I'm sorry!"

He had no words for her then. No words of comfort or love or - or _anything_. He wanted her to stop being sick too. He wanted her to not feel like this either. He wanted to take it all away, to make everything better, to do what he was _made_ to do. He was supposed to save the city, but he couldn't even save her from this pain. He felt like a failure in every single sense of the word.

It was all he could to open his mouth and apologize, but even that didn't come out right.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I want to - I want it to stop too, but you've got to be strong. You've got to get through this, okay? You're gonna be halfway done after all of this, you hear me? That's….that's so good, Felicity. I'm so proud of you."

Words didn't do his emotions justice. He was more than proud of her, he was in awe with her strength and dedication and her sheer will to live. Every time that he saw her wince with the pain of a lumbar puncture, or smile through a bland meal because her mouth hurt too much to have anything else, every time he saw her _fight_, he fell a little bit more in love with her. He knew Felicity didn't see herself as strong, but it was hard for him to see her as anything but.

"I don't think I can do it," she sobbed against his chest.

He felt the first of the tears slip down his face and he looked upwards, trying to borrow just a little of that strength from her to be able to say what he needed to. If she didn't fight - more tears fell from his eyes and he swallowed hard. He couldn't think like that. Not right now. There was plenty of time for that later, when she was better, when she was...he almost thought the word 'whole,' but stopped himself. She was more than whole now, she was...she was everything.

"Yes, you can. I know you can. And I know you will-" The words tripped out of his mouth, his brain hardly able to keep up with them as he just knew he had to say _something_ to make her see, but she interrupted him.

"I'm so fucking tired, Oliver, I don't know…"

Tired, tired, that was something he could work with! He could help her with that, he could - he **would**.

"Rest, rest, you need to rest." He started moving her pillows back into position, tossing one that had a little sickness on it to the ground, fluffing another one up for her.

And then, oh god, his heart broke just a little bit further when he heard her apologize for yelling at him earlier. As if that was remotely close to her _almost_ strong words she had used towards him. He was pretty sure she had said 'please' when asking for the earplugs.

He didn't know exactly what he was saying, even as the words left his mouth. And then suddenly, he was kicking his shoes off (custom slippers that he preferred to wear around the room at night instead of his socks) and climbing into the bed with her. As he leaned down to make sure the blanket covered her in its entirety, the quilt almost fell out of his hands.

His eyes met Sara's in the dark.

She was standing by the couch, watching quietly and patiently and Oliver could not believe that he had genuinely forgotten she was even in the room with him still. His faltering was so brief that Felicity didn't notice, and she snuggled into the blankets, slowly allowing herself to relax. Oliver darted his eyes to the door and held up a finger to indicate to Sara that he wanted to speak to her outside the room, but only after Felicity fell asleep. He knew she'd be able to understand and she silently excused herself, with Felicity none the wiser.

He quickly peeled the gloves off his hand before he wrapped his arms around her, savoring the closeness in a way that wasn't even sexual, which was a nice change for him. He slipped his hand under her shirt, softly stroking her stomach, knowing the pain she must be in after hearing her recount the stabbing sensation to Dr. Fox after the first chemotherapy session. The doctor had nodded and listened but had told her that unfortunately, that was a very common side effect with chemotherapy, and that it would probably accompany every session if she was already experiencing it. She had never mentioned it again, probably not wanting to complain, Oliver figured, but he was always hyper-aware of anytime she grabbed her abdomen or winced at a bad cramp.

It took her a very short time to fall into a heavy sleep; Oliver assumed that she had worked herself up so hard crying that her body was just utterly exhausted at that point. He clumsily got out of the bed, far less graceful than he had anticipated, but his body was running on very little sleep as well and he had just expended more energy on his emotions than he had in a very long time.

Casting one last glance at Felicity, he opened the door and quietly shut it behind him. Sara stood beside Ballard, who was on night duty ever since Felicity mentioned that she preferred Marcus to be on days with her since he actually spoke. Sara mirrored the man's pose and with her all black ensemble and expressionless face, she looked more like a paid security agent than she did like a friend visiting at that moment.

Oliver walked down the hall to the small waiting area, confident that Sara was following him even if he hadn't asked her to.

"You can still stay, if you want to," he started off, but she was already shaking her head.

"Not a chance that she'll be looking for me and not you when she wakes up. I'll head out." Her face didn't change but she shifted her weight from one foot to the other repeatedly, a sure sign that she was nervous. "I had no i- is it always like that?"

"Usually she makes it into the bowl," he deadpanned.

"You know what I mean. She said it was bad, but…"

"Her getting sick wasn't that out of the ordinary, no."

"Not just that, Ollie. I mean that she...she sounded so defeated. I've never heard her sound that way before. And you didn't look like you had either."

"It's been," he cleared his throat to force the emotions back where they came from, "it's been a while. Not since her first chemo."

"What do we do?" Her voice was tiny and her eyes wouldn't meet his. She was afraid.

The million dollar question, Oliver mused. He wanted to scream, right then and there. _What do we do?_ He had no fucking idea what to do. He never did. He was just as blind as everyone else and he wished to dear god that they would all stop looking to him for answers, like he was somehow more knowledgeable than any of them. He read a lot on the disease, sure, but that was just facts. Numbers and words and letters and none of it meant a _damn_ when it came to Felicity because how the fuck was he supposed to know what to do? He didn't know what to do to take care of her or what to say when she cried or how to even hold her when she was upset. He was just as stupid clueless as everyone else, but no one could see that.

No one could ever fucking see that.

"We're there for her," he finally said. "When she needs us, we're there. That's all we can do."

"You make it sound so simple."

He waited for her to look up, to lock eyes with him, before asking his next question. A question only people like them, people who had been through what they had been through and done the things that they have done, would be able to answer truthfully.

"Is there _anything_ you wouldn't do for Felicity?"

He watched all the emotions and feelings flick across her face with a sick sense of familiarity. He knew these. He knew the steely resolve combined with the barely-there wince of pain and remembrance as she thought back on things that she _had_ done, often times for much less dire circumstances. Things that she had enjoyed doing. Things that she hadn't. Things she wished that she could forget, but she knew only made her into a stronger person.

"No." Her answer was strong and clear. They both knew that there was absolutely nothing in this world, no task, no heinous deed, no unfathomable act that they wouldn't commit if it would help Felicity right now.

"We'll do what she needs us to do, Sara. And right now, she needs us to be here for her." His eyes drifted down the hall to her door, his body pulsing with the need to see her, to touch her, to make sure that she was still breathing, still existing.

"Go," Sara told him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave the door another longing glance before turning to the woman in front of him. "About tomorrow…"

"I'll tell the others to give you guys some space. The next day, then."

"Thank you, Sara."

They began walking down the hall, back to her room. Before he went inside, her strong fingers gripped his arm right below his elbow. He looked at her curiously.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you cry, Oliver Queen."

He had a few glib responses on the tip of his tongue. A few 'don't get used to it'-esque remarks, or a 'had to happen sometime' could have just as easily slipped out, especially in front of Ballard, who was steadfastly ignoring the two, but unable to tune out the conversation completely. Instead, he found himself going for the honest answer once more, an option he had thought he had all but forsaken in his new life in Starling City.

"Nothing I wouldn't do for her, right?"

And he entered the room once more.


End file.
